Harry Potter and the Combat Butler
by Andrew Joshua Talon
Summary: Crack! Alternate take on Harry's fifth year. What happens when the disowned, slightly insane Squib son of Lucius Malfoy agrees to come back to Wizarding Britain to serve as Harry's bodyguard? Not a self-insert. Rated for language and innuendo, no slash.
1. Chapter 1

Harry Potter and the Combat Butler

By Andrew J. Talon and Fitzgerald

DISCLAIMER: Harry Potter is not our property. It belongs to JK Rowling and Time Warner. We're not doing this for profit. The only thing in this story I own is Castor Malfoy.

- - - - -

"Headmaster... Are you sure that it's wise, recruiting such a... Colorful individual?"

"Ironic coming from you, Severus," Professor McGonnagal stated with a slight smirk. The Potions master glowered across the Headmaster's office, ignoring the lemon drops in front of him. Dumbledore shook his head with a sigh.

"You know as well as I do, Severus, that with the exception of yourself no one else who is a member of the Order was in Slytherin. Nor was anyone else a member of the Malfoy family."

"He ran away as a boy. I doubt he could possess any particular knowledge I could not find," Snape stated flatly. Twinkling blue eyes measured him carefully.

"Perhaps," Dumbledore allowed. "However, his record speaks highly of his talents, despite his status as a Squib."

"We have more than enough of those," Snape snorted. "Just what talents does he have that a wizard does not?"

"Severus!" McGonnagal admonished. The Potions Master was unrepentant, sneering back. The Assistant Headmistress sighed, and turned to Dumbledore.

"I must admit, Albus... I too am curious as to Mister... Castor's qualifications."

Dumbledore smiled, fingers formed in a steeple.

"I believe you'll find he is a man of many talents."

- - - -

Little Whinging, Surrey

A rather boring little bedroom community just off the M3 and some sixty kilometers North East of Gatwick Airport.

A place where 'Normalcy' is much sought after commodity and status.

Having a Camaro complete a rapid and sudden turn onto Privet Drive was somewhat out of place.

That the rather aggressively coloured vehicle pulled to a stop in front of #4 by pulling a rather noisy 180 degree hand brake turn leaving behind copious amounts of rubber on the street.

Stepping out of the car, a tall, well built stranger pushed his messy, bleach blond hair out of his eyes and pulled on sunglasses, despite the fact that the sun was already setting. Tugging on his black suit, he brushed off some lint with tanned hands and stretched.

"Why must you wear sunglasses? It's only going to get you killed, you know," sighed a lightly London accented female voice from within the car. The man turned back and scowled.

"They're intimidating," he replied in his own Estuary lilt, lighting up a fag with his handy lighter.

"You look ridiculous," the female voice sighed. "But no, by all means, run into a mail box on your way to the door."

"Oh sod off, crazy hula bint," he muttered, closing the door and stalking across the street. His hands firmly in his pockets, he quickly came to the door and rang the bell.

A few minutes fumbling and a large man with a huge, handlebar mustache answered. He glowered at the stranger.

"Yes, what is it?"

"Right. Is a Harry Potter at home?" The stranger asked in a pleasant, if slightly bored sounding tone. The large man's face began to redden.

"You... You're one of those freaks, huh? What do you want?"

"I'm here to pick him up. I trust you could let me in the door?" The stranger asked. "Vernon, was it?"

Vernon colored even more, gritting his teeth.

"No you may not! I will accept no more of your kind in here, especially not after what happened!"

He slammed the door. The stranger sighed, breathing out an exasperated puff of smoke. He cracked his knuckles. He grinned.

"And here I thought this was going to be boring," he murmured, before raising up his boot and kicking in the door. Vernon turned around, face turning even more red as the stranger entered.

"YOU-!"

CRACK! The stranger moved, an open palm strike snapping Vernon's head back and breaking his nose. As he fell back the stranger slammed another fist into his solar plexus, and a knee to the groin. He finished the Dursley off with another high kick to the chin, sending the massive man crashing to the floor of the hallway. The stranger snorted at the pictures lining the walls of a fat blond child.

"Ugh... Hate the decor..."

"AAAHHHH! YOU-YOU-WHAT DID YOU-?!" A bony woman shrieked in the kitchen. She was already moving towards the phone, a problem easily solved by a quick punch to the device sending it crashing to the tiled floor.

"'Scuse me," the stranger said, pulling a spray bottle and dosing the screaming woman with a fine blue mist. Her mouth closed, her eyelids grew heavy, and Petunia Dursley slumped to the floor, fast asleep.

- - - -

"How is a lot of punching, running and use of Muggle toys going to help anyone?" Snape sniffed. Dumbledore smiled.

"He has demonstrated that despite his lack of magical ability, he is no less dangerous than any wizard-More, in fact, given that this lack makes it a requirement for him to be... Creative."

- - - -

Large, heavy footsteps alerted the stranger to the third of the Dursley family, and he turned with a broad grin to a wide-eyed, angry Dudley on the staircase, repleted in leather jacket.

"I've heard you box," the stranger said conversationally. "I hope you'll be a bigger challenge than your father here."

"You-!" Dudley roared, charging down the stairs and straight for the stranger, meaty fists up and ready to strike. With the ease of experience the stranger trapped Dudley's leading arm and pitched him into the kitchen table with a splintering crash.

"Ugghhh..." The fat teenager groaned, having hit his head hard. The stranger sighed and rolled his eyes, before kicking him as hard as he could between the legs.

"GEEEAAAHHHH!" Dudley screamed in a much higher pitch than usual. The stranger shook his head again, and turned around, a cheerful smile on his face as he spotted his target.

Messy black hair, check. Thin but not too badly built from Quidditch, check. Green eyes, check. Lightening-shaped scar on the brow, check. Glasses, check. Holly wand pointed right at him with an expression of shock on his face... Double check.

"Evening Harry Potter," he said cordially, an honest smile on his face. "My name's Castor. I'll be helping you escape this evening."

- - - -

McGonnagal sighed. Most recruits into the Order of the Phoenix hadn't had ten minutes of debate. But this one...

"Look at his criminal record, Albus," McGonnagal urged. "See how his 'talents' and 'creativity' have been turned."

"He is a warrior, Minerva," Dumbledore replied gently. "And this is a war, is it not?"

"Warrior? More like a common thug," Snape snorted.

- - - -

"You're from the Order?" Harry asked, surprised. Castor nodded.

"Yep. Of course, you shouldn't trust me at face value," the blond man stated. Harry raised an eyebrow, wand still on him.

"Because you might be a Death Eater in disguise," Harry stated. Castor nodded.

"True, except for a couple things." Castor smirked and bent down, calmly rifling through Vernon's pockets and releasing a triumphant "Aha!" when he pulled out his wallet.

"One, if I _was_ a Death Eater in disguise, I'd disguise myself as someone you know and trust," he began, quickly yanking all the money and credit cards out of Uncle Vernon's wallet. Harry didn't make a move, wanting to hear what he had to say and quite frankly unconcerned about his relatives. They all seemed to still be alive.

"Two, if I was a Death Eater, I wouldn't be that creative," Castor went on, shoving the money and plastic into a pocket before walking over to the cupboard under the stairs. He produced a crowbar out of an inside pocket inside his jacket, and Harry knew that it had to be magic to do that.

"Because I'd be an inbred moron who only lives for carnage and mayhem and Imperioing hot Muggle women to do me because that's the only way to get some aside from whores," he continued, slamming the crowbar into the door and wrenching it open, ripping apart the wooden frame. Harry nodded, still keeping his wand on his visitor.

"And three, they certainly wouldn't send a Squib to kill you," Castor finished, yanking out Harry's trunk and broom. Harry raised his eyebrows, and recalled that the man had not used a wand once.

"You're a Squib?"

He smirked. "Just cause I'm a Squib doesn't make me helpless," he stated simply, walking over to the front door and setting Harry's luggage down. "You've got other things you'll be wanting to take with you?"

Harry nodded and turned to walk upstairs. Castor grinned.

"Well, that takes care of that," he decided. Vernon groaned. He startled to rouse.

Castor gave him another kick in the balls and his breath turned into a girly squeal. He snorted derisively over Vernon.

"Yeah, big man now, huh?"

- - - - - -

"Still hard to imagine this used to be little Castor," McGonnagal noted with a wry smile, looking over some pictures taken of the subject in question. He still carried the Malfoy aristocratic lines-Sharp chin, high brow, proud cheekbones-But with his deep tan and much paler hair he had a significantly more exotic look to him. Like an adventurer of olden times, waving a wand to cut through the dense jungles of Africa for treasure or potions ingredients.

When last she'd seen him, he was a tall, lanky boy, soft spoken and soft smiling, not meek but definitely quiet, restrained.

"He's been many places, Minerva, seen and learned much," Dumbledore spoke pleasantly. "I feel he will be a very valuable asset."

"If he can be controlled," Snape interjected. He held up some newspaper clippings referring to a 'Blonde Bandit' raiding a drug lord compound in northern Mexico all by himself. Substantial rewards were offered for his capture.

"He does seem to get into more than his fair share of trouble," Dumbledore confirmed, "but then again, so does Harry."

"So we need two of them?" Snape asked flatly.

- - - -

Harry appeared downstairs a few minutes later, stepping around the unconscious Vernon into the kitchen. Castor was busy taking out all the money from Aunt Petunia's purse, seemingly failing to notice Dudley getting slowly back up and readying his charge.

Just as the massive boy was about to tackle him, Castor sidestepped Dudley and tripped him, slapping the back of his head just before he rammed it into the undersink cabinet.

"AUUUGHHHH!"

"Oh quit crying you great big pussy," Castor snorted as Dudley sobbed, his voice muffled from being under the sink. "You should only be crying if I'm serious." He shook his head, giving the massive boy one last kick to the groin (making him sob even harder) before turning around and jauntily saluting Harry.

"So, shall we be off then?"

"Gladly," Harry said with a smile. He turned to the door and made to avoid Vernon again, stopping at Castor's cough. He looked over his shoulder questioningly as the blond man walked up, shaking his head.

"Like this, Harry," Castor advised, stepping onto Vernon's groin. He stomped on it for good measure, before crouching down and slapping a note on his forehead.

"There," Castor grinned, picking up Harry's trunk and walking out the door first. "I wouldn't be a proper bodyguard if I didn't make sure everything was safe for you first, right?"

"Bodyguard?" Harry asked with a frown. "Dumbledore's giving me a bodyguard?"

"Actually, I volunteered," Castor called back, ignoring the gossiping neighbors already looking out their windows. He ignored the snoring of what he knew was a drunk and sleeping Mundungus Fletcher, walking over to the Camaro and opening the boot, dropping the trunk in. Harry followed close behind, and Castor took Hedwig's cage and set it in the back seat, before shutting the boot up and gesturing to the passenger side of the car. Harry slid in, buckling his safety belt and reassuring Hedwig, who was hooting in annoyance at being in such a compact place.

"Now then Harry," Castor began, sliding into the driver's seat, buckling up and turning on the car's engine, "since we've got some time ahead of us, I was thinking we could pick you up some new clothes. That sound good?"

Harry nodded. Castor grinned.

"Good. The Dursleys owe you that much, so... Feel free to get creative," he advised with an evil smirk.

"You're going to be in so much trouble Castor," squeaked the plastic hula doll on the dashboard. Castor just grinned.

"Damn right I will be. But it'll be fun."

With that, he drove off at high speed.

- - - -

"He was a perfectly able student in his classes while he was here," Dumbledore continued. "Polite, well behaved..."

"He was using a Dark artifact to simulate his usage of magic!" Snape growled. "That hardly qualifies him for _anything!_"

"He at least worked hard," McGonnagal offered flatly. "Without any favoritism from his house," she added, making Snape sneer.

- - - -

Harry looked about the interior of the Camaro as they drove away from Privet Drive. He was amazed at the fact that no police sirens were being sounded behind them. There was ample time for one of their neighbors to call.

"Uh, Castor? I thought you were a Squib?"

"That's right, I am," he said, proudly. Harry blinked. Every squib he'd met before, and wizard, thought that being without magic was the worse thing ever. When he was thought to be a Squib, Neville's own uncle dropped him out a second story window. Someone... _proud_ to be a Squib?

"Er... About the house...?"

"Oh, relax. The Muggle police won't be calling any time soon," Castor reassured the teenager with a grin. "The SEP field took care of anyone watching."

"SEP field?" Harry asked, blinking. The hula dancer on the dashboard cleared her throat.

"Someone Else's Problem field," she recited. "It essentially filters a non-magic person's perception to think of it as 'Someone else's problem', so they ignore it. I extended it out over the house so no one would pay any attention after getting a quick look."

The hula dancer glared at Castor. "Which a certain someone named _Castor_ forgot to do!"

"Oh c'mon. The Order can clean up it's own bloody messes," Castor snorted.

"You're part of the Order!"

"Technically I'm just working _for_ them, I'm not _part_ of them," Castor corrected, raising a single finger.

"That's not what you told Dumbledore," the hula dancer scolded. Castor rolled his eyes.

"Al? Man couldn't play poker for crap. I made the oath to, and I quote, 'fight the Dark Wanker and protect Harry Potter', unquote. Makes me a bit of a mercenary really."

"Mercenary?" Harry asked with a frown. Castor grinned.

"Relax Harry. I wouldn't have taken the job unless I wanted to, and I want to. You're someone who needs protecting, not to mention some fun. Plus, old Voldiewarts needs to be taken down a few pegs. Actually the whole set." He shook his head and leaned back.

Harry frowned. "So... Um... How did you join the Order?"

"Well, I've been here and there and done this and that." Castor said as he took a drag off of his cigarette. "I've had fun along the way, made some time with a girl or three, kicked some ass, and picked up a pearl of wisdom now and then."

"Like what?" Harry asked curiously.

"Ok," Castor said as he flicked his cigarette out the window, "If you ever find yourself down in Bangkok; always, and I mean always make sure that the girl you pick up isn't packing any extra equipment; if you know what I mean." Castor grinned at the look of horror on Harry's face.

"Anyway, the Order right? Old Al tracked me down in Moscow, said he was putting the Order together again, asked me for my services. I told him I wasn't into old men and that wasn't my business anyway."

Harry's jaw dropped. The idea of the headmaster asking for... _That_... Castor grinned.

"Joking, joking! Lighten up Harry!" He took another drag off his fag and turned a corner, the tires squealing loudly. "Anyway, I agreed to come back to London, as I needed a place to lay low for a while."

"Lay low?" Harry asked, aghast. Castor shrugged.

"Eh... I kind of accidentally blew up an old Soviet base I was invading to save my girl from the Russian Mafia. They're not too happy with me. Neither is my girl. Then again, she wasn't mine, persay, I was saving her for her parents due to PRAGS."

"PRAGS?" Harry asked with a blink. Castor nodded and counted off on his fingers.

"Protect the innocent, Rescue the captured, Attack the bad guys, Get the girl, Save the World." Castor blinked and frowned. "Nobody ever taught you the Hero's Code?"

"Hero's Code? I'm not a hero! I just-!" Harry began, before Castor flicked his forehead. "Ow! Hey!"

"Now now, that violates the Heroic Rules of Heroically Heroing Rule number 9: No moping. You're not an anti-hero, that's the Anti-Hero's Rules."

Harry blinked in utter disbelief.

"But that's okay!" Castor said cheerfully. "Don't worry about it. As your bodyguard, of course, it's my job to keep you safe and get you to loosen up."

"So, can you tell me why I haven't received any news all summer?" Harry asked, his anger resurfacing at this thought. Castor nodded.

"Sure Harry. Not a problem. Anything you need me to tell you, I'll either tell you myself, or find someone who will…"

- - - -

"He did at least work for his Potions grades, Severus," Dumbledore offered gently. Snape snorted.

"Feh... He cheated, and never earned a damned thing he got, and he threw it all away like the selfish brat he was!"

"He threw it away," Dumbledore began calmly, but with eyes twinkling slightly less, "because the Muggleborn friends he made in defiance of his father were slaughtered along with their families the moment Lucius found out."

Snape seethed.

- - - -

"Now Harry, the key to using someone else's credit card is to engage the stores clerks in conversation," Castor pointed out as the elevator opened out to the Men's clothing department in Grace Brothers. "That way they don't bother to check just who is using the card."

"Really Mrs. Slocombe your pussy getting neatly trimmed isn't an appropriate conversation for work hours."

"Really Captain Peacock, it isn't as if we have customers at the moment," Mrs Slocombe commented in a mildly annoyed tone.

"Quite," Captain Peacock said as he turned to Harry and Castor. "Welcome to Grace Brothers how can we help today?"

"Harry here needs to get kitted out," Castor said with a grin. "Full set of kit, lost almost all of it after a bit of water trouble."

"Of course," Peacock answered before turning to view the staff under his command. "Are you free?"

Exchanging solemn glances with one another all the staff answered formally and in unison. "Yes I'm free, Captain Peacock."

All that was except for the somewhat effeminate trill of "I'm free!" from Mr. Humphries.

Harry blinked, and looked uncomfortably at Castor. The blond gave him a reassuring smile before ushering him towards the dressing rooms.

A few hours later, a bewildered and mildly traumatized Harry Potter left the store, carrying several bags of clothing with his bodyguard shouldering a heavy load himself, but talking happily about how nice the entire staff was and how he'd have to visit it again.

Harry shuddered.

- - - -

Back at Number Four, Privet Drive, the Order of the Phoenix apparated in to a suspiciously open front door. Moody scanned the house quickly, cautiously moving in with wand drawn... Only to sighed heavily at the form of Vernon Dursley, still unconscious on the ground.

"Blimey Moody, what happened?" Nymphadora Tonks, a junior Auror, gasped. Moody read the note stuck to Vernon's forehead, retrieving it with a quick summoning spell and handing it to the currently pink haired woman. She read it aloud for the rest of the group, eyes widening.

"_Dear Tonks,_

_Cousin Castor here. I decided to grab Harry ahead of schedule as the Dark Wanker is likely not creative enough to think that Harry'd be rescued the Muggle way. Really, a flight of broomsticks? He'd be expecting that a mile away, the daft bugger. I know this for certain because the Death Wankers are all wizards and think all wizards think alike, and thus thought you'd think to think like wizards..._"

"Idiot boy," Moody growled. "I can't believe Dumbledore called him in..."

"Well... He has a point," the tall black bald Auror Kingsley Shacklebolt offered. Remus Lupin sighed, as Hestia Jones just blinked in confusion.

"He probably saw that Dung was on watch again, _drunk_," Lupin added with a snarl at the source of the foul smell to his enhanced senses, "and got him out of the house."

"Did a number on the Dursleys," Hestia observed. Tonks snorted. After hearing what they were like, she and nearly every other Order member wouldn't be particularly upset about their injuries. She skimmed the rest of the letter.

_"Dung was drunk, guessing you saw that... Should arrive a few hours early at that place, wanted to pick up Harry some new clothes and what not. Sleeping Potion I sprayed the missus with should wear off in a few. I beat up the walrus and the pig, nothing a few healing spells won't fix. I do ask you make sure you don't fix their willies unless it's life threatening-Keep the gene pool clean and all that._

_See you at HQ, your cousin,_

_Castor."  
_  
"He does ramble on, doesn't he?" Shacklebolt observed as Tonks walked over to the snoring, currently invisible Dung and kicked him. Lupin sighed.

"Just what we need... Another Sirius."

- - - -

"BLOOD TRAITORS! FILTH OF THE EARTH! SCUM! OUT OF MY HOUSE YOU DIRTY BLOODED-!"

"Oh, well, nice to see some things don't change!" Castor shook his head, calmly leaning against the wall facing Mrs. Black's portrait and lighting a cigarette.

"YOU! YOU, YOU TRAITOR! YOU SCOUNDREL, YOU BASTARD CHILD!" She shrieked, yellow eyes bulging. Harry could only stare as Castor easily ignored the old woman's ranting, gazing at her with a bored look.

"Right, right, 'cause I wanted to marry a girl whose genes aren't buggered from inbreeding," Castor calmly replied. He rummaged about in his jacket pockets.

"YOU REFUSED YOUR BIRTHRIGHT, YOU SHAMELESS BEAST! YOU PITIFUL PISS RAG OF BLOOD! YOU-!"

Thunk!

"Wh-What's that?" Harry asked, nervously eying the small package Castor had stuck onto the surprised Mrs Black's face. Castor turned and gave Harry a small grin.

"Get Sirius..."

"I'm here... Blimey! Castor, that you?" Sirius called from the top of the stairs, staring in amazement. At the sight of a new target, Mrs. Black's confusion was alleviated with rage.

"WHAT-WHAT-HOW DARE YOU STICK THIS-THIS-!"

"This is me," Castor replied happily. He held his lighter under the package and ignited it.

"Consider this a token of my esteem," he went on calmly as the fuse began to burn. "C'mon Harry, up the stairs. Let's watch..."

"Watch what...?" Harry asked, dumbfounded as he was led to what he presumed was a safe distance. Castor grinned up at Sirius.

"Ever hear of thermite, Cousin?"

A grin emerged on Sirius's face as the package burst into white-hot flames.

"_AAAAUUUUUUUUUUUUGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH_!!!"

The painting burned with incredibly intensity, so much so that Harry had to cover his eyes. When it died down he looked and gaped in astonishment as flames were quickly consuming the wall and the carpeted floor.

_"Extinguisho!"  
_  
The flames vanished from a burst of super cold magic from Sirius's wand. Despite the incredible damage done to his residence, and the chance the whole house might have burnt down, Sirius was grinning ear to ear at the blackened ruins of his mother's portrait.

"Absolutely brilliant," the Black head enthused. Harry stared in disbelief as Castor took a slow drag off his cigarette.

"Not so hard... The charms are designed to prevent magic flames from damaging it, this I remember," he explained. He shrugged. "Just a hunch that if there's no magic to ignite it, there's no magic to cancel out." He turned to Harry and winked.

"Let that be a lesson to you, Mr. Potter. There are times to do things the Magic way, and times to do things the Muggle way. But it doesn't hurt to know how to do both."

"Not to mention that Muggles always were good at making things go boom," Sirius added. Castor laughed.

"Damn right..."

- - - - -

_Just kind of an experiment for an alternate Year 5 of Harry Potter. And a way to use an idea I've had for a Squib!Malfoy who isn't a Pureblood bigoted idiot. Castor Malfoy, Draco's disowned big brother. A concept I put together on TFF.  
_

_If enough people think I should keep up with the concept, I will. If someone would like to make this into an actual story, you can do that as well. It would let me focus on my other projects like Key Through the Heart more. In any event, leave your thoughts on this (currently) one shot, good or bad. Thank you._


	2. Chapter 2

Harry Potter and the Combat Butler

By Andrew J. Talon, SoftRogue and Fitzgerald

DISCLAIMER: Harry Potter is not our property. It belongs to JK Rowling and Time Warner. We're not doing this for profit. The only thing in this story I own is Castor Malfoy.

- - - - -

"So Harry, how was your trip here?" Sirius asked with a mischievous smile, as Harry sat down on the bed in one of the several bedrooms in Grimmauld Place. Castor leaned against the wall, smoking with a bored expression on his face. Harry frowned.

"All right... I got new clothes," he offered. Actually, he was very happy about getting new clothes for essentially the first time in his life, and dumping everything that the Dursleys had given him into a dumpster on the way here.

But he was oddly hesitant to talk about what Castor had done or talked about.

Sirius smiled. "That's good... Castor fill you in on things on the way here?"

"Some things," Harry allowed. Sirius sighed.

"I know, I'm sorry we didn't communicate with you at all this summer. Dumbledore ordered you to be kept uninformed."

"But _why_, that's what I want to know!" Harry growled. "Haven't I earned the right to know things?"

Sirius raised his hands to appease his godson's wrath. "Trust me, this summer hasn't been a picnic for me either," he snorted. "Dumbledore's had me stay in here for months. Doesn't want to risk HQ."

"But why me? It's not like I would give away anything sensitive, right?" Harry pressed. Sirius shrugged.

"Dumbledore's got his reasons..."

"Right, _his_ reasons," Castor snorted. Sirius shot him a look.

"Sirius, do you know how easy it was to find out where Harry lived?" Castor asked flatly. "I looked up the address on the _Internet_. I checked out records of the Evans family, Lily and Petunia, which were public, found out Petunia had married Vernon Dursley, and listed two dependents-Dudley Dursley, and Harry Potter. Number 4 Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey."

Sirius and Harry gaped.

"That easy?" Sirius asked in utter disbelief. Castor snorted and nodded.

"Yes. The only reason Harry's safe is because the Death Munchers are too stupid to look things up the Muggle way, but if they even _get_ an inkling of how to do it..." Castor shrugged. "And considering you guys are keeping a guy who fell asleep while Harry got attacked by Dementors on his watch?"

"He WHAT?!" Sirius snarled, standing up. Harry felt angry himself, but didn't fly off the handle.

Castor nodded grimly. "Just what the hell is this Order hoping to _do?_"

"I can't believe this! Dumbledore keeps us both isolated and locked up,_and_ he keeps someone who let Harry get attacked by Dementors guarding him?!" Sirius seethed, pacing angrily around the room.

Harry grit his teeth. Castor sighed and shrugged.

"Well... Now you know why you need a bodyguard. One who isn't an actual member of the Order," Castor offered. He shook his head.

"Believe me, I'll be having words with him this evening," Sirius growled. Castor nodded.

"Good. We both will."

"And I may have some for you as well, Castor Malfoy!"

Harry, startled, turned to the door of the bedroom to see Dumbledore standing there, eyes narrowed and face frowning. He didn't look as furious as he did last year when busting the door of Crouch/Moody's office last year, but he was angry. Sirius growled and Castor just smirked.

"Al! We were just talking about you!" Castor said in a faux-cheery voice. Dumbledore glanced at Harry for a moment, before returning his hard gaze to Castor.

"We will discuss things in private before the meeting," Dumbledore said flatly. He turned to Sirius. "Sirius, I will remind you of what we talked about before?"

"How dare you put this off! Keeping Dung on watch duty after what happened?!" Sirius spat. "You'd better have had a good reason for this!"

"We will discuss this later, Sirius! For now, please see to Harry. His friends should be arriving shortly," Dumbledore retorted. "Castor, outside, _now_."

Castor pushed away from the wall, snapping off a salute to Harry, who was staring at him in disbelief. He smiled.

"See you around, Harry," he stated, before casually heading out the door, Dumbledore stepping aside to let him pass. He shut the door without another look back, leaving a grumbling Sirius and a shocked Harry.

"I..." Something stuck Harry. "Wait... Castor _Malfoy?_"

Sirius turned to his godson, visibly trying to calm himself. He took a deep breath and sighed.

"Yes... Malfoy. He's Lucius Malfoy's eldest son, my second cousin," Sirius replied, sitting back down on the bed next to Harry. Sirius frowned.

"Harry, if it's the fact he's a Malfoy that's bothering you-"

"Well, no, not really," Harry admitted. Castor hadn't acted like Draco or his father in the slightest, and his actions during the drive, though sometimes disturbing, didn't have the air of a snob or traitor. Still, Harry was mindful of how easily Crouch had duped everyone, including Dumbledore.

"It's just... With Crouch..."

Sirius smiled and nodded.

"Ahhh... Right. Well... Let me try to put your mind at ease, all right?" He asked. Harry nodded, and Sirius took a deep breath.

"Lucius had Castor just out of school with Narcissa. He was a few years older than we were, old enough that Castor was in his first year at Hogwarts when you were born. He was born a Squib, but apparently Lucius used a Dark Artifact of some kind to present the illusion that he could use magic. He had a wand and everything."

"Dark Artifact?" Harry asked with a frown. Sirius sighed.

"A power sharing bracelet. It's registered dark because to make it work, it requires some illegal blood magic for it's usage. But, he inherited his mother's intelligence and kindness... Well, kindness before she married Lucius," Sirius smirked. "And he befriended some Muggleborn students because they came from a world filled with people like him. People who couldn't do magic."

Harry nodded, definitely understanding that. When you've lived most of your life in a world you don't fit in, you wanted to know about another that you did.

"Anyway," Sirius continued, sighing heavily, "Lucius found this out, and during the summer holiday, a few months before your parents were killed by Voldemort, he and a few of his Death Eater friends murdered Castor's Muggleborn friends and family."

Harry gaped. Sirius sighed again and went on.

"He found out on his first day back, and at the Welcoming Feast, small as it was that year, he marched right up to the front of the room, took off his bracelet, and proclaimed that he was a Squib. That his father was a murderer, and that the entire wizarding world could go bugger itself." Sirius chuckled darkly. "A twelve year old boy, yelling that to everyone who could hear."

Harry shook his head. It was amazing to imagine someone yelling that out, especially in Castor's circumstances.

"He then ran out of the school, and disappeared," Sirius finished. "He vanished into the Muggle world. His father disowned him, and used his influence to erase Castor from every public record. Hell, he bribed and threatened the families of nearly every student at Hogwarts to keep quiet about what they saw."

"What about Dumbledore?" Harry asked. Sirius snorted.

"He felt it best that Castor disappeared. If he didn't, he'd be an embarrassment to Lucius's family honor, and he'd have had to kill him to restore it."

"Kill his own son?" Harry asked. Sirius nodded.

"What do you expect? He's the man who murdered twenty Muggles just because his son befriended them."

- - - -

"Explain yourself, Castor." Dumbledore said after the young man into the privacy of the upstairs library.

"What's to explain, Al?" the blonde asked, throwing himself into one of the many armchairs present. "You hired me to protect Harry; whether it's from Voldymorts or from the idiots who think that their 'brilliant plan' to bring Harry here isn't something that anyone with half a brain couldn't think of. And you know my opinion of my father's 'friends'."

"We had matters well in hand." Dumbledore said.

With a snort, Castor rolled his eyes. "Right. You had matters so well in hand; the person you picked to watch over Harry decided to take a nap. Please Al, you're just pissed because a I did a better job than a handful of your 'best' could do; and I did it right under everyone's noses."

"No, Castor. I'm, as you say...'pissed' because you saw fit to brutalize and rob Harry's family."

"They deserved it; besides, I went easy on them. They're still alive, right?"

"You brutalized Harry's family! You robbed them! You disobeyed my orders!" Dumbledore stated, eyes narrowed.

"Look, let's get this straight. I don't _follow_ orders from you. You _hired_ me to serve as a bodyguard for Harry, though I'm starting to think it's more like making me a butler since I have to clean up _your__ mess,"_ Castor stated, standing back up and glaring right into Dumbledore's eyes. He glanced away before Dumbledore could use Legimancy, but continued in the same strong, matter of fact tone.

"I talked to Hagrid, and Professor McGonnagal. They told me _you_ had Harry put into that house. They told me just what went on in there. Harry filled me in on the way here a little more. Bottom line, the kid was abused and neglected, and _you put him in there."_

"There were reasons-!" Dumbledore began, Castor cutting him off with a snort.

"So fucking what? _You_ put Harry into an abusive home, _you_ never _once_ checked up on him, _you_ never stepped in to stop them from doing it! I'm serious Al, right now I'm having a hard time not doing to _you_ what I did to the Dursleys."

Castor glared, keeping his eyes focused on Dumbledore's beard. The ancient wizard sighed heavily.

"Castor… I had little choice-"

"If you're going to explain the mother's protection crap to me, don't bother. I already figured it out," the ex-Malfoy went on. Dumbledore's eyebrows rose sharply, not that Castor could tell.

"But how-?!"

"I have my sources. I did my homework before coming here, to know just what I was getting into," Castor snorted. "But it's pretty much useless right now, isn't it? According to Harry, old Moldieshorts could walk right through the wards with ease now. You putting Harry in that situation,_again,_ doesn't reflect very well on you."

Dumbledore sighed again, feeling very old. Castor crossed his arms over his chest.

"All together, it seems like you're keeping Harry in the dark and unloved for a reason, and I want to know what it is."

"… I can't tell you."

It was that simple. Castor had no defense against strong enough mind probes, and no resistance to magical curses. If Voldemort learned what he knew…

Castor nodded. "Fine. I'll just tell Harry that you don't care enough about his safety_or_ happiness to tell his _bodyguard_."

"Castor, please," Dumbledore tried. "Please, I have very specific reasons for my actions, but I cannot reveal them. Not to anyone. Not even Harry. At least, not until the proper time. In fact, you have probably made things even more dangerous for him by telling him _anything-"_

"Ignorance isn't solved with more ignorance, Al!" Castor interrupted again. "But fine. You want to play it that way, not tell me anything, not _trust_ me _or_ Harry, that's your prerogative. As long as you let me do _my_ job, I'll let you do _yours._ Just don't expect me to pull my punches when this blows up in your _face."_

A tense silence fell over the library, Castor glaring into Dumbledore's beard while the Headmaster was staring sadly at the bodyguard.

Dumbledore sighed heavily. The boy was willful and reckless, he knew this. He was also dangerous, very dangerous despite not being able to use magic. But Dumbledore had called him in because he felt that a former member of the Malfoys would be a great asset to the Order's efforts, not to mention someone who had evaded Aurors and Magical crime lords on every continent. This was war, after all, and Dumbledore needed soldiers.

And he hated to admit he had good points. But points deduced with only part of the puzzle presented. Castor did not know everything, did not know the prophecy, did not know everything riding on his plans.

Unless Castor followed orders, he was a threat to everything Dumbledore had worked so hard for.

"… Very well. I will allow you to do your job… Within _reasonable_ limits," Dumbledore said at last. His eyes narrowed.

"Despite this... You will reimburse the Dursleys for the money you took and will apologize to them for what you have done," he stated firmly. Castor snorted, but nodded and gave him a salute. Dumbledore repressed a sigh.

_Castor... Just what turned you into this?_ Dumbledore remembered the eldest Malfoy well. He was smart, amiable in his House, and had seemed to lack the animosity of his father towards Muggleborns. He'd been aware of the artifacts used to grant him magic, but had let him continue in the school, hopeful that he would use his family's influence to begin alleviating the bigotry and hatred inherent in the magical world.

Then his father found out. Five families of Muggleborns were murdered. And Castor had vanished and been disowned.

It was grimly appropriate to invite him back after fourteen years to help in the fight against Voldemort. Dumbledore simply hoped it was the correct decision.

- - -

After retrieving Sirius for the meeting, the three men walked down to the first floor, passing by Hermione Granger and Ronald Weasley who both went straight to Harry's room.

Dumble opened the kitchen doors and walked in, Castor shoving his hands into his pockets and following with a more sedate Sirius. All conversation of the assembled members slowed and ceased as Dumbledore stepped in, and he gave an encouraging smile to them all as he magically sealed the doors behind them.

"Friends and allies, welcome. We have much to go over tonight, so everyone please sit down and-"

Dumbledore felt Castor rush by him, and his eyes widened as the blond young man ran between a surprised Bill Weasley and Fleur Delacour straight at the sour-faced Professor Snape, whose eyes widened at the approach. Dumbledore opened his mouth, about to admonish Castor not to do anything foolish… When he slid around behind Snape with an unpleasant grin and flipped up his robes.

"SUPER WEDGIEEE!" Castor shouted, yanking Severus's underwear up as hard as he could. Snape's eyes bugged out, as thought they would pop right out of his skull and his mouth opened wide.

"AUUUUUUUUGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHH!!!"

Castor released his hold on Snape's black underwear and smirked. Snape snarled and waddled around, drawing his wand out.

"YOU-YOU-YOU-!"

_Ker-chack!_

Snape stared dumbly into the muzzle of a Muggle weapon. Castor's expression had changed from sadistic smirk to deadly cold glare.

"Uncle Sev… Been a while," Castor stated flatly. He glanced over at the shell shocked Dumbledore at the entrance to the kitchen, ignoring the rest of the Order who were gaping in utter disbelief.

"Who's your supplier?" Castor asked.

"Excuse me?" Dumbledore asked.

"Your supplier. Because if you trust Snape, then I want some of whatever it is your smoking; 'cause it must be good."

Sirius began to laugh, who was followed by giggling from Tonks, disbelieving chuckles from Remus, and pretty soon it was difficult for anyone to keep a straight face save Professor McGonnagal and Molly Weasley, who looked scandalized.

Dumbledore rubbed his brow, feeling a headache coming on. It was looking like it was going to be one of those years...

- - - - -

"Now, I understand that there is animosity between you two," Dumbledore began in a stiff tone after Castor and Snape were seperate (and Snape treated for his, ahem, _injury_).

"But we are all on the same side here and we must work together! So, shake hands."

Castor smirked and held out a hand. Snape's own stayed at his side, the Potions master sneering at the blond venomously. Dumbledore sighed.

"Castor, no weapons_please_."

Castor snorted, but with a flick of his wrist he got the knife in his sleeve to be thrown out to his palm. He pocketed it and held out his hand again. Snape reluctantly took his hand, and with as brief a shake as possible they withdrew their hands again.

"That will have to do," Dumbledore sighed. "Now then... For those of you not aware, we have a new member who completed a mission today, the retrieval of Harry Potter." Dumbledore looked up at Castor and nodded. "I will allow him to introduce himself per Order tradition."

Castor turned to the assembled Order members, his smirk becoming a little less dangerous and a tad more playful. A few members relaxed as he did.

"Right then... My name is Castor Malfoy. My blood type is O negative, my hair is blond, I'm six foot three and weigh about 200 pounds. I am an expert in Jeet Kun Do and Kung Fu, Muggle hand to hand fighting styles, and I've picked up bits and pieces of several other fighting styles on my trip around the world. I am a damn fine shot with a variety of firearms and I can use anything I need to as a weapon. Including tennis rackets."

He took a drag off his cigarette before he continued.

"I'll keep one eye on the shadows, protecting my fellows, from sun up to the moon on my back," he recited. He grinned.

"I send the villains to Hades and I'm a hit with the ladies... A stallion, in the sack," he added, winking at Fleur Delacour and making her blush as well as a number of other women in the room. Dumbledore felt his headache growing worse. Professor McGonnagal suppressed a smirk. Sirius resisted the urge to declare Castor his second favorite relative, after Harry of course.

"Now, you can't get your life back, when right follows left, Jack," Castor continued, shaking his head at Mundungus Fletcher who blinked in confusion. "And the more you see, the less you know. When others would leak it, my service is secret, and I play God when it's time to go."

"Castor," Dumbledore interjected politely. Castor rolled his eyes.

"Right, right... Anyway, pleasure to meet you all, and I'd like to say that I'll put my all into defeating the Dark Wanker and kicking the asses of the rest of those inbred hillbilly magicians!" He held a fist up and grinned, to some scattered applause. He then turned, walked over to a chair near the wall, leaned back in it and put his hands behind his neck, looking utterly relaxed.

"In any event," Dumbledore resumed. "I believe Severus has some news to share..."

- - - -

"So, wait, he actually beat up your uncle and cousin?" Ron asked with a grin, shaking his head on the bed in the room Harry and Hermione had met in. Harry nodded, unable to stop smiling at that memory. Hermione looked aghast.

"Harry, that-He could get in a lot of trouble!"

"It's no worse than anything else that's happened, and they bloody deserved it," Ron enthused. Hermione snorted.

"Maybe they did, but it's not up to him to dispense revenge!"

"Not so much revenge, kiddo, as justice," spoke a voice that was familiar to Harry but not to Hermione or Ron. Ron turned and gaped at what appeared to be a tanned, more athletic version of Lucius Malfoy in Muggle clothing standing in the doorway. He knocked on the doorframe.

"Mind if I come in?" He asked. Harry grinned.

"Not a problem, Castor..."

"Good," he said, walking over while pulling off his jacket. He tossed it over a chair in the corner and sat down on it, rocking back and forth in it with a frown.

"Eh... It'll do," he decided, before standing back up and walking over to the bed. "Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger, I take it?" He extended a hand with a smile.

"Er, yes," Hermione stated, slowly reaching out and taking his hand to shake it. Castor bent down to kiss her hand, but she yanked it back, startled and blushing. Castor chuckled.

"Sorry, force of habit," he apologized. He smiled genuinely at Hermione. "Harry's told me nothing but good things about you, you know."

"He-He has?" Hermione asked with a smile. Ron blinked and scowled, to which Castor turned and smiled.

"Ron! Harry told me a lot about you too," he professed. "Mostly good, I swear. You shouldn't be jealous, I'm not taking away Harry."

"Wh-What?!" Ron gawked. Castor laughed.

"Well, nothing wrong with it. Perfectly healthy to be attracted to-"

"WHAT?!" Harry and Hermione yelled, as Ron's ears went red and he made a face.

"WHAT?! Bloody hell no, eww! I don't like Harry that way!"

Castor laughed hard, holding his stomach. Realizing the prank, Ron scowled, Harry couldn't help but shake his head in amusement, and Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Sorry, sorry, couldn't resist," Castor grinned. He sat back in his chair and sighed.

"So uh, what brings you here?" Harry asked. Castor snorted.

"I'm your bodyguard, which means I'm going to be going everywhere with you. I may as well get into practice."

"Everywhere?" Harry scowled. He'd had some idea of what being a bodyguard entailed but still… "What, Dumbledore wants me to be kept under a leash?"

"It's not my decision, Harry," Castor sighed. "Al wants me to keep an eye on you, and I'll keep an eye on you." He smiled. "Buck up, it won't be so bad. I'm great company. I can even do tricks."

"Yes, but... Does that mean _everywhere_ everywhere?" Ron asked, looking a bit sick. "Including the loo?"

"Well, I'll check that out first, make sure the Dark Wanker hasn't suddenly gained a brain and is trying to do you in creatively," Castor explained. "But no, I'm not going to be watching you twenty four seven. I'll just be close at hand." He grinned.

"Relax, it'll be fun."

"How would that be fun?" Ron asked with a scowl. Castor smirked.

"You'll see..."

"So, can you tell us what happened with the Order meeting tonight?" Hermione asked. Castor shrugged.

"Just a lot of Snape being self-important. Fucker," he cursed. He glowered as Hermione blinked.

"Um... Can you tell us anything more?"

"No," Castor sighed. "I would if I could, but I can't."

"Dumbledore?" Asked Harry dully. Castor shook his head.

"Nah, Mrs. Weasley and Sirius. She doesn't want you running off or doing anything crazy. Sides, it's really not that much, honest."

"Crazy? I'm not going to go run off," Harry protested. "I just want to know what's going on!"

Castor nodded, sighing as a solemn look appeared on his face. "I know, I know... I get how you feel. But, naturally, Al feels you shouldn't worry."

The ex-Malfoy sat up and took a deep breath.

"All for the greater good, of course," he spoke in a surprisingly accurate impression of the Headmaster. Harry just scowled, Hermione sighed, and Ron shook his head.

"Nothing huh? Must be losing my touch..."

"Too bloody believable," Harry commented dryly. "Maybe I should break into 'Hakuna Matata' at being kept ignorant."

"Not a bad idea at all Harry," Castor agreed with a roll of his eyes. "After all no knowledge means no worries right."

"Especially with a homicidal manic after me," Harry agreed with a nod. "So why did Sirius stop you."

Hermione pouted a little as she had already begun to hum along to the song.

A grin formed on Castor's lips at that and Harry's bodyguard added in more cheerful tone, "Didn't want you rushing off to actually do the job yourself. Said if anyone's going to get into death defying stunts it would be him."

"As if we don't have enough experience with that," Ron grumbled. "Starting with first year."

"Although," Castor said thoughtfully rubbing his chin. "Having your dads head form out of the clouds in the Great Hall and pass a message along would be pretty cool."

"Harry." Hermione said in a bad imitation of James Earl Jones booming voice. "I am your father."

Snickering at this Harry added, "Then takes off the Vader mask. Now that would be funny."

"What" Ron asked confused. "What's so funny about that?"

All three others in the rooms gave Ron a pitying look.

- - - - -

_Another little section to this series. Just to be clear, this is not an Evil! Dumbledore fic, or an excessively Manipulative! Dumbledore fic. References to Hakuna Matata are from Disney's _The Lion King._ Castor's introduction included elements of the song _"A Man For All Seasons"_ from the film _Johnny English.

_I would like to just get this out of the way from the start: Castor will not have a romantic interest. As in an actual romantic relationship with any of the characters. And I'll explain it in a future chapter. Suffice it to say, it's for the purposes of keeping him from crossing too far into Gary Stu territory. Then again, anyone with common sense is close to Mary Sue/Gary Stu levels in the canon Harry Potter universe anyway, so meh. The author is at a loss._


	3. Chapter 3

Harry Potter and the Combat Butler

By Andrew J. Talon, SoftRogue and Fitzgerald

DISCLAIMER: Harry Potter is not our property. It belongs to JK Rowling and Time Warner. We're not doing this for profit. The only thing in this story I own is Castor Malfoy.

- - - - -

Dinner that night was somewhat tense. The rest of the Order had departed, leaving Sirius, Lupin, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, Bill, Ron, George, Fred, Ginny, Hermione, Tonks, Castor and Harry to eat together in the kitchen. Charlie would have stayed but he had business to get back to in Romania, and Dumbledore naturally skipped out the moment he could after flatly informing Sirius to stay in Grimmauld and that he would explain his reasoning later.

This had not gone over well with Sirius at all, but he'd complied, warning the headmaster that he expected an answer if Dumbledore wanted to keep his new clubhouse. A moment of tense silence followed, before Dumbledore nodded and headed out without another word.

Harry, Ron, and the rest of the children came down afterwards for dinner. Mrs. Weasley kept glaring at Castor, who had sat down at the table with Harry and Sirius despite his offers to help with dinner. Ginny and Hermione sat at the end with Tonks, amusing themselves by asking her to do different noses and faces, which the Metamorphmagus was all too happy to comply with. Bill and Remus sat at another end, in conversation about the goblins, while the twins and Ron helped with dishes.

"So essentially, Moldieshorts is just sitting around on his arse, letting the Ministry cover him up so he can prepare in secret," Castor snorted, pulling out his gun and a cleaning kit from his Bottomless Pocket. Quickly and skillfully he took apart the Muggle weapon and began cleaning it. Mrs. Weasley scowled up from the oven.

"Castor, would you _please_ not do that at the table!"

"No worse than polishing a wand," Castor returned with a congenial smile. Fred, George and Ginny snickered at this, as Mrs. Weasley shot them disapproving looks.

"We're going to be eating soon and I don't want that-that _thing_ going off by accident!" She insisted. Castor sighed. He picked up the magazine of the nine millimeter and held it up.

"It can't do anything without ammunition, see?" He said. "Relax, Mrs. Weasley." He gave her a charming smile, which didn't soften her disapproving expression any. He sighed and leaned back in his chair, about to light up another cigarette.

"Castor! Not at the table!" Mrs. Weasley ordered. Like a petulant child, Castor put his pack and lighter away and sulked. Harry blinked in disbelief.

"Hey, standing up to idiots like Al and pathetic dicks like Snape? Easy as pie. Mothers? Whole different story," the ex-Malfoy explained.

"So Castor, where were you before you came in?" Sirius asked. Castor sighed.

"Let's see… Russia."

"Russia?"

"He blew up a mafia base," Harry supplied with a smile. Sirius raised an eyebrow at Castor, who tried to look innocent.

"Another one?"

"Yes,_another one,"_ Castor parroted, looking put out. "I'm pretty sure everyone got out. The whole 'This base will self-destruct in ten minutes' alarm should have gotten everyone with a brain to clear out."

"You… But what if someone couldn't hear it?" Asked Harry. Castor shrugged.

"Hey, I'm not the Flash. I'm not Superman. If they couldn't get out on their own, well… Their problem, not mine."

"Bit callous, don't you think?" Bill asked from down the table. Castor shrugged again.

"Well, look. These were not nice people. Hell, most of them were former Soviet wizards-"

"Soviet wizards?" Ron asked curiously as he placed plates in front of Castor, Sirius and Harry. The blonde nodded.

"Yeah. See, most of the magic in Russia was either wiped out with the White Russians, or taken over by the Red. And the Reds, well, their magic schools were more about quantity and political reliability. In other words, they weren't trained nearly as well as wizards in, say, America or Canada," Castor explained. Sirius nodded with a smirk.

"They had good combat spells though. Perfect things if you want to cause a lot of damage and aren't worrying about precision."

"Wicked," Ron enthused, mainly about the spells. He sat down and leaned over the table eagerly. "Do you know any, Castor?"

"I know some, the incantations and wand movements. Doesn't do me any good," Castor laughed wryly. Ron looked confused.

"Huh? Why not?"

"He's a Squib, Ron," Harry explained with a smile. Ron blinked.

"…_Seriously?"_

"You look surprised," Castor commented mildly. Ron nodded.

"Well, yeah… I mean, how did you beat up Harry's relatives without magic?"

Castor sat up and his hand seemed to blur, shooting across the table and snatching Ron's wand out of his pocket. Before Ron could react, Castor' other fist was shooting for his nose.

"Like that," Castor calmly explained, his knuckles barely an inch from smashing in his nose. The tall redhead gaped in disbelief, before smiling.

"Wow… Can you teach me how to do that?"

Castor grinned. Harry recoiled slightly, and felt certain that unpleasantness was bound to follow a smile like that. It was the same look the Weasley twins got when their pranks were just about to go off.

It didn't help that Sirius was soon grinning in exactly the same way.

"Of course I will. As Harry's bodyguard, I am supposed to make sure he can defend himself," Castor went on, "but even I can't be near him twenty-four seven. So, I'm going to offer to train anyone who wants it in Muggle fighting techniques."

"No offense Castor, but what good is any of that going to do you?" Bill asked skeptically. Castor shrugged.

"Pretty simple. The better physical shape you're in, the better you can fight. And, even if you lose your wand, you'll still be able to defend yourself." Castor turned to Harry and nodded, suddenly serious.

"Hero's Code Rule number 25: Your sword, wand, gun, or whatever is not a weapon. They are simply tools. You _yourself_ must be the weapon."

"Interesting quote," Fred commented as he sat down across the table, the food finally done and divided around the table.

"Yes, very philosophical," George added, sitting next to his twin.

"I'm game. Brother of mine?"

"Of course I'm game! After all-"

"The better shape we're in-"

"The more birds we're sure to-"

"Pick up than we already too."

"Not to mention you mentioned something about sprayers?"

"Sounds good for a prank."

"How do you make them?"

Castor blinked and looked back and forth between the two twins. Harry laughed.

"You get used to it."

Castor just grinned. "I'm used to twins, just not… These types of twins, if you catch my drift."

"CASTOR!" Molly screeched angrily. Castor held up his hands.

"Just kidding!"

"I suppose learning how to fight Muggle style would be useful, if nothing else as exercise," Hermione observed from down the table. Ron smirked.

"Getting a bit pudgy from all that studying, hm?"

Hermione glowered.

"I wouldn't talk, with how you lay around all the time stuffing your face!"

Ron's ears turned red.

"Hey, I'm a growing boy!"

"Growing somewhere, that's for sure!"

Castor rolled his eyes as the argument grew in intensity. He turned to Harry.

"They do this a lot?"

Harry nodded. Castor glanced over at Mrs. Weasley and saw that she was watching with some interest. He frowned. He knew that look… _Oh God…_

"They're always having a row over something," Harry continued. He frowned as a thought occurred to him. "You don't think… They fancy each other, do you?" Harry finished that in a whisper.

Castor sighed and rolled his eyes again. He looked over at Sirius, who had been listening in. Sirius too looked exasperated with his godson's statement.

"Harry… There's a lot you don't know about women," Sirius stated. Castor nodded gravely.

"We must instruct you in their ways before you fall into a trap."

"Trap? What kind of trap?" Harry asked, confused.

"Tell you after dinner," Castor promised, digging into his food.

---

Harry looked about the dismal library, feeling a bit confused but surprisingly not too tired. He stood near a bookshelf topped by a few human skulls in jars, which he tried to ignore. Castor and Sirius were talking quietly some distance away, arguing in low voices. Finally, Sirius sighed and nodded, and Castor walked over to Harry, motioning to two small armchairs set up nearby.

"Alright Harry, grab a seat will ya?" Castor said as he followed his own advice while pulling a note book from his jacket pocket. "There's something important we need to talk about."

"It's not more about the Hero Code, is it?" Harry asked as he sat down, only to flinch when the blonde leaned forward and flicked his forehead.

"Stop whining, Harry! You're not some emo-wannabe Anti-Hero!" Castor said, leaning back in his chair. "And no, this is about something even more important."

Clearing his throat, Castor opened his note book and consulted it. "Now Harry, you're coming to a point in your life where you have an important decision to make. While you still have some time; it's a good idea that you begin to explore your options and narrow down your choices."

Seeing that he had Harry's complete attention, Castor continued. "Alright; first off, we have Cho Chang. She's a smoking hot Asian chick with a big brain; which equals some seriously kinky possibilities. The problem is, she comes with some major baggage. You were there when her boyfriend was killed. Now, that will let you play the sympathy card; but it will end up biting you in the ass in a big way. Believe me; this is the voice of experience speaking here."

Harry was rendered speechless; which Castor took as an invitation to continue.

"Next up, we have Parvati Patil. Hot Indian babe...you know they came up with the Kama Sutra, right? And...well, she has a twin sister. A _twin_! Anyway, you screwed up here, Harry. I heard about what happened at the Yule Ball and...Bad form, mate. Anyway, all hope isn't lost; but you're going to have to work twice as hard to get her. Even harder to snag her twin at the same time.

"I didn't want to mention this one, but I wouldn't be doing my duty if I didn't mention her. Ginny Weasley. On one hand; you've got the 'Damsel in Distress' bit down, so if you want, you'll be in like Flynn. But, on the other hand...you _do_ realize she looks like your mum, right?"

Looking up from his note book, Castor noticed that Harry's face had a greenish tinge to it.

"I thought not. Let's take her name off the list, then. Your next choice is Hermione Granger. Now, I know what you're thinking. You're thinking that she's just a friend, right? Well, how many 'just friends' are willing to break several Ministry Laws; along with bending a couple of laws of physics, for you. Hum? Anyway, she's smart, loyal and fairly good looking. Now, I know she's only about a 6.5 to a 7 compared to the first couple of girls I mentioned; who range from an 8.5 to a 9. But! Five will get you ten Hermione has a Librarian fetish and she screams like a banshee."

Harry was, at this point, blushing bright red and staring speechless at his bodyguard. It didn't help that an image of Hermione dressed as a Muggle librarian, looking over her glasses with a saucy wink appeared in his mind. Castor grinned and turned to Sirius, who had been observing nearby. The Black heir nodded with a smile.

"I think we have a winner," said Sirius.

"B-B-But-!"

"Now Harry," Castor interrupted again, "we're not saying you just go right up to her and say 'Let's make babies.'"

"Very bad form, that," Sirius noted with a smirk.

"But, it would do you good to think of her as a girl, as well as a friend, and a potential _girlfriend,_" Castor lectured. Harry blinked, his initial mortification giving way to contemplation.

He recalled how Hermione had looked at the Yule Ball, how she'd always been there for him even when Ron had abandoned him. How they'd rescued Sirius together. How worried he'd been when she was petrified by the Basilisk. How she'd helped him save the Philosopher's Stone.

Harry couldn't help the blush that arose even brighter on his cheeks, but he was at least smiling when he thought about it.

"And, of course, if it doesn't work out, well… Plenty of fish in the sea, and she'll stay your friend," Sirius advised. Castor nodded.

"Can't let her end up with Ron though."

"Oh hell no, that would just…" Sirius shuddered. Castor nodded, and thought about it.

"I think the Twins would suit her fine though."

"Which one?"

"Both," Castor grinned. Harry gawked at that, and the mental image of Hermione, Fred and George, like… _That…_

"WHAT?! No way!" Harry cried out. Castor smirked and shrugged.

"It's a very old maxim, Harry, and is part of the Hero's Code. Rule 187, actually: 'Brainy birds are naughty.'"

"Besides, she'd be mad to break up the pair," Sirius mused thoughtfully. Castor smirked and nodded.

"So, no worries Harry. If you can't get her, she'll be secure from Ron."

"Well… Can you help Ron too? With women I mean?" Harry asked, deflating a bit. He was a little guilty for not defending his friend, but Castor and Sirius had a point.

"Oh, I expect Ron to undergo a lot of changes this year," Castor said with a slightly evil smile.

"After all, I'll be training him… You… Hermione… The Twins. All of you. Learning how to fight Muggle style, well, it can change a lot of things about you."

Harry gulped. Sirius, Castor, _and_ the Twins involved? He wondered if Hogwarts would survive when they actually returned in the fall. Heck, at this point, he wasn't too sure about himself _or_ Ron.

"Now then, off to bed," Castor said with a smile. "We're going to begin training tomorrow, bright and early."

Harry nodded, and stood up. He made his way out the door after wishing his godfather and bodyguard good night, and made his way to the bedroom he'd been given. Placing his glasses by the bedside table and climbing under the covers, Harry sighed and leaned his head back, trying to clear his mind before he went to sleep.

---

"Sirius," Tonks called out cheerfully the next morning. "Mum found the package just like you asked."

"Brilliant Tonks," Sirius replied as he bounded into the entrance hall where the scorch marks from his mothers former portrait could still be seen.

"Blimey is it heavy," Tonks commented as she dropped the long black carrying case, roughly three times the size of an electric keyboard, onto the ground.

"Not a surprise really," Sirius replied with a roguish grin. "It's enchanted to Avalon and back to protect its secrets, other than destroying it no new magic can affect the case."

"Merlin," Tonks whistled out in amazement. "That's some serious magic then. I've only seen that level of protection on the highest security Ministry safes before."

"So speaking of, what's hidden inside of here?" a clearly interested Tonks asked. "And why did Mum have it?"

Suddenly somber, Sirius carefully traced the locks on the case as a far off look appeared in his eyes.

Used to her cousin's rapid turns of mood, Tonks waited somewhat impatiently for Sirius to pull himself back to the present.

"The legacy of a wonderful woman," Sirius replied softly, "Harry's Grandmother and Andromeda's teacher. Not mention your great aunt."

"What did she teach Mum?"

"The noble art of the sword and wand of course," Sirius replied with great vigor, a real smile filling his face. "Why do you think Andromeda is considered one of the finest duelists alive today?"

Tonks nodded at that, her Mum's skill with a wand had protected them during the last war from several Death Eater attacks.

"Dorea was something else though," Sirius reminisced. "That was one witch you never wanted to be on the wrong end of the wand of. It took Voldemort himself and some rather dirty tricks to take her and Charles down."

"So what's in the case?"

"Ah, now that's a secret," Sirius replied with a mischievous grin.

---

"Come on Ron," Harry commented in a slightly breathless tone. "Even I was doing better than that in First Year."

"I still don't see why I can't move on to tougher stuff without mastering this first," Ron grumbled.

"Really Ron," Hermione clucked. "Mastering the basic technique is essential. Now let Harry grab you and try again."

"That really could be taken the wrong way," Tonks stated with a wide grin as she entered the gym which had previously been the formal dining hall.

Which had meant storing away the furniture, and laying down some mats, which Castor and Molly had made all involved to do it the Muggle way by hand.

"But then again, the Witches of Hogwarts would likely pay a pretty sickle to see Harry grab you," Tonks quipped much to Ron's dismay.

Harry rolled his eyes and commented dryly "Right. Since Ron still needs to learn how to fall properly, we aren't sparring yet."

With a smile on his face Harry nodded in greeting to Sirius. "Sirius what do you have there?"

"While since Castor is teaching you fighting skills; I thought it was time to give you this," Sirius said presenting Harry with the case.

"What's inside?" Harry asked as he held the hefty case up with both hands.

"It's a legacy from your Gran," Sirius said softly. "Dorea was one of the finest swordsmen in Europe. She and your Grandfather worked together on this. Opening it will require a drop of blood."

Placing the case gingerly on the ground, Harry took a pin Tonk conjured for him and pricked his thumb.

With a single touch of his thumb to the lock bolts could be heard snapping back, gears whirled and the lid popped open.

Inside a brace of schiavona could be seen resting comfortably on black silk in between two drawers. Their black basket-guards gleamed elegantly in the overhead light, and Harry could see his reflection in the well sharpened and polished blades.

"Open the top drawer, if I remember correctly the instructions and manuals are within," Sirius answered. "The swords were enchanted for training purposes. Dorea devised them as way to train her students even if she couldn't meet with them to spar daily. "

"Swords? Awesome!" Castor enthused, walking into the room.

"Castor, can you help Ron out?" Hermione asked. "He still can't fall properly."

Ron coughed something that sounded vaguely like "teacher's pet", to which Hermione fumed and Castor smirked.

"Well, not at the moment. I've got a few errands to run. All I can advise is to keep practicing. You'll get it right." Castor looked into the case, and selected one of the swords. He turned to Harry.

"I need to borrow this for my errands. Mind if I borrow it for a bit?" Castor asked. Harry nodded.

"Sure Castor, but can you tell me what you're going to do with it?"

"I can, just not now," Castor sighed. He smiled reassuringly.

"I'll tell you when it works. Or if it doesn't." At the Trio's confused faces, Castor chuckled.

"It'll make sense when it's done, too. But believe me, you're going to like it. Sirius?"

"Right," Sirius said, smiling at Harry. "We'll be back."

The two men left the room, and Harry noted Ron looked pale.

"I'm getting the same feeling I get when George and Fred head off together," he admitted. Hermione huffed.

"Oh come now… How much trouble could they get into?"

Ron and Harry groaned. Hermione blinked.

"What?"

"We're doomed," Ron stated.

"Thanks a lot, Hermione," Tonks sighed.

"What? What did I say?"

"Relax Hermione," Harry said with a smile, "no shame in it. Just kind of like, well…"

"Saying 'nothing can possibly go wrong?'" The bushy haired girl quipped. Harry nodded and Tonks laughed.

"Definitely."

- -

The next few days for Harry were very busy ones. Castor had talked to Molly about the training, and while she had been a bit concerned, when Castor pointed out that it would get the kids into better shape and thus make them healthier she was happy to help. As Harry, Hermione, Ron, Ginny, and the Twins muddled through the basics of self defense, Castor was frequently absent, only appearing every now and again to get Sirius or Remus for something.

He'd give a few pointers on something ("Harry, try to relax your arm a bit more before you hit"), offer a joke to break up the monotony ("Hey, you're lucky. First time I started training for this, I fell down the stairs"), and then bidding a cheerful goodbye and heading off.

The fourth day, and the day before Harry's trial date at the Ministry of Magic, Harry was again practicing a basic block with Hermione, while Ron was bashing away at a punching bag Castor had set up. The Twins were minding their shop and Ginny had gone shopping with Mrs. Weasley.

"No Harry, no. Look," Hermione stated with a sigh, taking Harry's wrist in her hand and gently tugging her arm forward. "This isn't supposed to stop a blow, but _deflect_ it. You're not a wall, you're a divider. Force the energy of the punch into another direction."

Harry nodded, his cheeks going slightly red at the contact between his skin and Hermione's. The bushy haired girl let go, stepped back, and put her right foot forward. Though she wasn't an expert by any means, Hermione had quickly picked up the basic stances (such as they were) for Jeet Kun Do. Harry nodded and slid a foot back, bending his knee very slightly.

Hermione threw her punch, keeping the muscles relaxed until just before the hit. Harry brought his arm up and met her strike, tensing his muscles and aiming to hit her wrist.

Her punch went off course, and as practiced, Harry moved forward and raised up his knee. However, Hermione had overextended, and ending up losing her balance and slamming her forehead into Harry's.

"OOF!" They both cried, and fell in a heap on the mat. Ron paused in his boxing, looking over while breathing hard.

"Blimey Harry, you all right?" He asked. Hermione scowled, sitting up while still on top of Harry and rubbing her forehead.

"I'm fine too, thanks for asking," Hermione snorted. Ron rolled his eyes.

"Hermione, are _you_ okay?"

"Yes, thank you," she stated, leaning back over Harry in concern. "Harry?"

"Owww," he mumbled, rubbing his scar. Hermione frowned.

"I didn't hurt your scar, did I?"

"No, it's fine... It's always giving me a headache now," Harry said, face flushed. Hermione looked down at her position with Harry and blushed hard.

"Think you two will be moving any time soon?" Asked Ron irritably.

"It looks pretty cozy to me," commented Harry's voice. Ron gaped. Harry's eyes widened in horror, as Hermione blushed even harder. She was about to stutter out a denial of some sort, before looking up and paling.

"Harry, Hermione! Really, I think I said you would be practicing _martial_ arts, not _marital _arts," Harry's voice continued. Harry was stunned to see his face looking down on him as well with a strangely familiar grin.

"What the-?!" Ron gasped. The other Harry shook his head.

"Relax guys, it's me. Castor. You know, tall, blonde, handsome," the other Harry counted off.

"Modest?" Hermione snorted. Castor grinned.

"But of course," he said. Harry blinked. He blinked some more.

"Polyjuice Potion!" Harry realized. Castor nodded.

"Exactly."

"Is that why you needed our hair?" Ron asked. Hermione scowled.

"You never told us you would be using it for-for that!"

"Now now, I told you I couldn't tell you what I needed it for until I was sure it would work," Castor replied. He held up a few vials filled with silvery substances with a grin.

"And it has. But, I need to demonstrate what I've been up to rather than tell you. It's much easier."

Hermione had stood up and Harry now slowly joined her, as Ron walked over, looking confused. Castor held out a vial with the letters "HJP" written on with marker to Hermione.

"Hermione, if you could, can you take your wand and put these memories into Harry's head?" Castor asked. Harry started.

"Wh-What?"

Hermione's eyes lit up in understanding. She smiled at Harry and Ron.

"Don't worry guys... I think I know what he's been up to," she said. Castor nodded, then pulled another vial fill with a green substance from his pockets.

"But first, Harry, you need to drink a bit of this. Trust me, it'll all be clear in a moment," Castor assured him. Harry frowned.

_Polyjuice potion... Memories...?_

Harry shrugged, and nodded. Castor smiled.

"Excellent! I'll get the swords," he said, turning and heading to the black case against one wall of the gym. Harry looked back and forth between Ron and Hermione, before shrugging and nodding.

"All right... Bottoms up," he said, downing the green vial in one gulp. He made a face at the taste, and his eyes widened as a tingling sensation seemed to spread across his body.

"All right Harry, ready?" Hermione asked. Harry nodded. Hermione took out her wand, stuck the tip into the vial, withdrew a silvery thread, and slowly pressed it to Harry's temple.

A rush of sounds, images, smells hit Harry, and he felt his balance slip just a bit. His brain seemed to be stretching, and he gasped as the pieces of memories began to assemble themselves in his mind.

"Harry! Harry, you okay?" Ron gasped. Hermione put a hand on his shoulder, steadying him. Harry was breathing hard, but nodded to his friends he was okay. He slowly stood straight up, the tingling sensation significantly lessened, but a strange... Softness seemed to permeate his body. Almost like a thin layer of marshmallows was under his skin.

Castor stepped forward, carrying two of the _schiavona_ inside. He tossed one to Harry, who moved forward and caught it by the grip easily. He himself was surprised at this. It was like he'd known Castor was going to throw it to him and he'd moved out of instinct, slipping his hand under the basket guard in precisely the proper way to grab the grip.

"Good, looks like that's working at least," Castor grinned, taking the other sword in hand and assuming a loose stance, blade pointed at Harry. Harry pointed it back, his stance mirroring the Polyjuiced bodyguard.

Castor smirked, a bit unusual on Harry's face but nevertheless Harry returned it.

"Now then... Let's see what you've got down," Castor said. Ron and Hermione stepped away, Ron still confused. Hermione hurriedly whispered an explanation in his ear, which he frowned at.

"Muscle memory?"

"Muscle memory," Castor confirmed, just before he struck with a forward thrust. Harry parried the blow, his wrist flexing to let Castor's blade slide towards the trap on his hilt. As he did, he almost imagined a suit of armor attacking him, instead of Castor.

Flicking the blade out of the trap, Castor swung for Harry's side, a move he blocked and used to step forward, sliding his blade across Castor's and raising up a fist for a punch. Castor ducked and slashed for Harry's feet, Harry jumping just in time and using to give more power to a downward slash. Castor deflected this, trying to capture Harry's blade in his guard again but once more Harry evaded.

The two identical teenagers battle furiously, slashing, thrusting, parrying, and trapping. Harry knew Castor's objective was to either trap Harry's sword in his hilt and hit him with a punch, kick, or even a body block; or to maneuver around his sword and stab or slash him. Harry's goals were the same, and he moved effortlessly as though he'd been doing this all this life. As they fought, it seemed like Harry was remembering forgotten instances where he'd fought with a sword, for hours at a time, against an enchanted suit of armor.

And suddenly, he understood what Castor had done. He'd assumed the forms of the Trio with Polyjuice potion, and trained for hours on end in those forms, having Sirius or Remus collect his memories. That green potion used a few components of Polyjuice to, as with the full potion, reset the body's muscle memory. All his bad habits he did unconsciously had been wiped clean. It was this, combined with his memories, that had made fighting with a sword like a second nature to him.

His musings were interrupted by a slash to his shoulder, making him cry out instinctively. He stepped away, holding his shoulder, and winced in Castor's direction.

"Harry!" Hermione cried. Castor sighed.

"Hey, relax. They're in training mode right now," Castor explained. Harry blinked, noticing that there was no pain. He lifted his hand off his shoulder and saw that the fabric hadn't even been cut.

"You need to work on your focus," Castor observed with a smirk. He shook his head.

"This isn't going to turn you into an expert overnight," Castor explained. "And you still need to work on your physical training. But, this just speeds up the process a whole lot. You can do it, now we just have to make sure you can do it well."

Castor looked over at Hermione and Ron and grinned.

"So, who wants to know kung fu?"

Hermione snickered at the reference, while Ron grinned happily, clearly oblivious to where the quote was from.

"Me! I want to know kung fu!"

"Then let's give Harry a rest. He's got plenty of stamina, but he deserves a rest to get all those memories in order," Castor said, shooting a wink at Hermione. The girl blinked and then blushed bright red at the implication.

- - -

_For martial arts, the biggest hurdle is making the transition from having to think through your every move and doing it out of instinct. Castor trained as the Trio for several hours over the course of a day, using the reset muscle memory of their Polyjuice forms to essentially build new muscle memory for them so they could master the movements and stances very, very quickly. Now, the muscle memory potion only lasts for an hour, and the old habits are still there, just buried underneath the new memory. Hermione will still have her particular facial patterns and her own way of smiling, for instance. _

_The_schiavona_ is an Italian broadsword developed during the Renaissance, that had a distinctive basket-like hilt over the guard and a broad, pointed blade. It was like a broadsword version of a rapier, the forerunner to the modern fencing foil and epee. It is a true war sword, but based on the rapier that was most often used in duels and for civilian self-defense. I thought it would be a unique weapon for the Black family to utilize, as well as an excellent one for combat. _

_Plus, as the Hero's Code states: "The best weapons are both functional and look awesome."_

_Reference to the Russian combat magic borrowed from Rorschach Blot's excellent story, "Make a Wish."Reference to Ginny looking like Harry's mum and Hero's Code 187 inspired by cloneserpents' fic "Harry Potter and the Sword of Gryffindor."_

_More to come! Please review!_


	4. Chapter 4

Harry Potter and the Combat Butler

By Andrew J. Talon, SoftRogue and Fitzgerald

DISCLAIMER: Harry Potter is not our property. It belongs to JK Rowling and Time Warner. We're not doing this for profit. The only thing in this story I own is Castor Malfoy.

- - - - -

Hermione sat cross-legged on the floor of the gym with only Castor to keep her company. Only…it wasn't just Castor; it was Castor currently under the effects of 'Hermione-flavored Polyjuice' as he had put it.

Which was why she had convinced (re: pushed) both Ron and Harry out of the room. It wasn't that she didn't trust Harry or Ron; it was the awkwardness of the situation that bothered her. And from what she could tell, Castor himself was a decent guy; odd, but decent. Add to the fact that Harry also liked him and also apparently trusted was a definite plus in her book.

But still; the fact he was an adult currently wearing her body just felt wrong, which is why she insisted in watching him as he began the first step of creating the muscle memory for her training.

"Not bad…not bad at all." Castor announced as he/she bounced back and forth on his feet a couple of times before throwing a series of punches followed a quick snap-kick. "You're in better shape that I thought, Hermione. You still have a long way to go and a lot of conditioning to do, but we're better off that I thought we would be."

"Thanks…I think." Hermione said. "So, what are you planning to teach me?"

"Savate." Castor said, while delivering a spin-kick. "The noble and graceful French art of beating the bloody hell out of people." Castor finished with a grin.

"I've heard of it." Hermione said, with a slight frown. "Isn't that primarily the style used by both the French Military and its police forces?"

Chuckling, Castor moved over to one of the training dummies that had been set up around the gym. Seeing, the scowl on Hermione's face, he quickly apologized as he began a series of kicks aimed at one of the dummy's knees. "Sorry; but you're just like Harry said. Anyway, Savate is brutal; you hit your opponent hard and take them down fast; which will be perfect for you."

"What do you mean?" Hermione asked curiously. "Me? Brutal?"

"Not to sound sexist, but you're at a bit of a disadvantage here." Castor explained, stepping into the dummy to deliver a series of punches before returning to kicking its knee. "Most of the styles I know aren't made for someone of your stature; and the ones I do know are too 'soft' considering that your opponents are going to be going straight for the kill. So there's no point teaching a style based on immobilizing and restraining people; but I'll still throw some moves is from Judo and Tai Chi Chuan to give you a little variety."

"Opponents?" Hermione scowled. "I'm not going to go looking for a fight!"

"No, but they will." Castor responded calmly, before performing a jumping spin-kick. "Just by breathing; you have a target painted on your back. And by being so close to Harry; that just means they'll be after you that much more."

Hermione silently agreed as Castor delivered another combination of punches to the dummy before sweeping it off of its feet. "Like I said, you're at a bit of a disadvantage here; you'll never have Harry's speed or agility or Ron's strength and reach. It'll take way to long to bring you to the level of strength I'm talking about here and we'll be working on bringing your speed up; which will go a lot quicker once we get some chestnuts."

"Chestnuts?" Ask Hermione; wondering what that had to do with speed.

Ignoring the question with still performing several combinations of kicks and punches, Castor continued talking. "We'll be concentrating on getting you comfortable with Savate and the other moves I'll be teaching you; also some gymnastics for more flexibility. I'll also be showing you Le Canne; a French weapons style using canes that goes hand in hand with Savate, although we'll most likely move on to using staffs instead of canes."

"I see." Hermione agreed. She knew she was looking at a lot of hard physical work; but Castor was right. Even if she stopped being Harry's friend today, the Death Eaters would still go after her for being a 'Mud-Blood'.

And there was no way she'd stop being Harry's friend.

"Besides, considering your history, teaching you Savate would be a bit of poetic justice if you ask me." Castor said; a grin on his face.

"What do you mean?" Hermione asked.

"Well, Savate was developed by combining several different types of street fighting techniques that were melded together to from one solid style. One of the biggest changes that happened was one of its core styles utilized open handed slaps instead of closed fist hits. And seeing how you knocked my little brother around back in your third year; I'd say that teaching you Savate just feels right."

"Little brother?" Hermione asked, confused.

Frowning in thought, Hermione tried to figure out who Castor was talking about. Even as a child long before she thought magic was even possible, she almost never resorted to violence. In fact, she could count on one hand the number of people she had hit in anger and still have a couple of fingers left over. And the only person she had hit since she started attending Hogwarts was…

"Draco? You're a _Malfoy_?" she blurted out; suddenly realizing why the blonde seemed so familiar.

"Yep." Castor said, his voice still friendly as it had been since the two were left alone in the gym; but Hermione thought his punches and kicks seemed a bit more forceful. "Is that a problem?"

"No." Hermione replied instantly; her mind putting several things together. "I've met your brother; remember? And considering his attitudes about…" she let the sentence hang. "Besides; Harry likes and trusts you."

"Good." Castor smiled as he brought his movements to an end. "Well, this dose should be ending soon; so let's call Sirius up here to grab my memories, alright."

"Sure." Hermione smiled as she stood. "Um, Castor? I've been wondering…"

"Hum?"

"Well…how…you're a girl now! How can you just act like nothing is the matter?!" Hermione cried out.

"Feel better getting that off your chest?"

"Yea…"

"Well, it's not like its permanent and I'm suffering from curse that has a 'very tragic legend' that's over one thousand five hundred years attached to it or anything. Besides, this isn't the first time I've used Polyjuice; I've had to make a quick getaway a couple of times. And when people are looking for a six foot something blonde guy; they don't even stop to glance at five foot woman."

"But still…"

"I know you have experience with Polyjuice; Harry told me about your second year. So you know that even though I look like a girl, I'm still a guy up here." He said, pointing at his temple.

"I can't believe Harry told you about that." Hermione mumbled, before looking back at Castor. "But you're a girl."

"And you were a cat." Castor countered with a grin, "And a cat is fine too."

"Huh?"

"Ok Hermione; let me break it down for you. One: Protecting Harry is my job, so getting you into fighting form so I don't have to protect Harry from doing something stupid when he tries to protect you walls under that description; and doing this is the quickest way to do that. Two: I'm not that big of a pervert, and I like my women to be legal. Three: Not that you aren't attractive or anything but, no offence, you're not my type; even considering the age thing. And Four: I don't like poaching on a friend's territory."

"Poaching?" Hermione asked with a confused look on her face.

"Never mind." Castor waived the question away. "By the way, I've been meaning to ask you something."

"Hum? Oh, go ahead?"

"How do you deal with all this hair? It's so bushy and untamed." Castor asked, running his hands through his damp and tangled locks.

"Castor!"

"Hey! It's not like I'm asking if _all_ your hair is like this!" Castor said, defending himself.

"WHAT!!" Hermione yelled, her fists clenching in anger.

"Besides," Castor continued with a straight face, "I'm sure you'd rather Harry be the one to find out the answer to that question."

"…eee…" squeaked Hermione, her face suddenly red.

Turning to the door to call for Sirius, Castor allowed himself to smirk as he muttered under his breath "And my job here is done."

---

Ron's training session held later that evening did not quite go as smoothly.

"Damn it!" Ron cursed from the ground. "Godric's Ghost this Kung Fu stuff is a pain in the arse!"

Castor gazed at Ron's prone and reddening form with a calm look in his eyes. Instead of encouraging his student to get back up and try the kata again like he had done the last dozen times Castor remained silent. He absently flexed his muscles and frowned. While the Polyjuice potion may have reset Ron's muscle memory, it hadn't done anything for his agility: Or, to be more precise, his lack thereof. He could run fast, sure, and had plenty of strength and reach, but his hand-eye coordination wasn't great and his reflexes and balance weren't much to brag about.

Charlie, back from the Dragon Preserve for a few days, winced at Ron's cursing. He'd been watching the training session with some interest, and had to agree with his youngest brother's assessment.

"This Kung Fu stuff obviously isn't for you Ron," Charlie stated in a calming tone obviously well practiced on dragons. "I'm thinking fisticuffs is more your thing, I'm certainly better at it myself."

"Brawling," Castor commented, obviously perked up with Charlie's statement. "I can see that working."

Castor settled into a basic boxing stance, arms up. He threw several quick jabs, and began to bob and weave experimentally. Ron pushed himself up slightly, watching Castor seem to perform a strange dance with his body. He moved backwards, forwards, side to side as though circling an opponent, ducking, punching and occasionally holding out his arms as though grabbing his foe and kneeing them in the crotch.

"Bit more linear and add some knees and elbows to it. Some down and dirty street fighting moves as well," Castor surmised, nodding in satisfaction. He turned to Charlie with a grin.

"So where did you pick up the Noble Art Charlie?"

"Romanian bars tend to be a bit," Charlie paused as he chose his words carefully, "rowdy. Blokes tend to object to having their birds express interest in a fellow innocently nursing a pint."

"Innocent," Ron snorted in good humor. "You Charlie? I still remember the Mum's reactions to your _friendly_ scraps down at the village pub."

"Ah, the old Weasley one-two jab," Bill commented as he stuck his head inside the training room. "Cor, I remember the first time Dad showed me how to do that. That left hook of his saved my bacon a few times in Egypt."

Rolling upright, Ron glanced between his two brothers, a hopeful expression on his face. "So, care to teach a younger brother how Weasleys fight?"

Feral grins passed across both his older brothers faces. Grins that Ron could compare to the three head dog Hagrid had back in first year. He gulped.

"Oh definitely," Bill agreed. "However, first Mum wanted to pass along word supper will be ready in a few, and if you want to eat faces and hands need to be scrubbed clean."

- - -

"Blimey what happened to you Ron?" Harry asked with obvious concern, as he looked up from his grandmothers text. "You look like bludgers have been doing a number on you."

Collapsing into his bed back first, a bruised and weary looking Ron explained slowly. "Bludgers named Charlie and Bill."

"Ouch, what did you do to piss them off?" Harry asked wondering just what his best male friend could have done to annoy his eldest set of brothers.

"Training," Ron explained. "I'm rubbish with that kung fu chop socky stuff, but we Weasely's fight with our fists. So Bill and Charlie introduced me to it. Fist first."

"Well that's one way," Harry said uncertainly.

"Co'or, tell me about it," Ron sighed. "But I did get a good lick in on Charlie. They'll be doing the whole polyjuice - memory thing later tonight and tomorrow morning. Bill and Castor will be working on my basic punches until then."

Perking up in excitement Ron added, "Charlie told me a few professional Keepers use boxing to get into form for Quidditch. Something about being able to take a bludger or two and still block the Quaffle."

"Well we do need a Keeper for the team this year," Harry fired back. "Let's play some indoor Quidditch for the fun of it and see if we can't get you into form for tryouts."

"Sounds brilliant, but let's wait until I'm not black and blue all over eh?"

- - -

The day of Harry's trial began much too early in the bespectacled youth's opinion. Having your bodyguard burst into your room and crying _'Rise and shine!'_ while banging a pot with a spoon at the crack of dawn was not the way he wanted to start is day.

Although, in retrospect, Harry did find it rather funny when Castor proceeded to drag Ron out of his bed and heard him out of the room. Although it was rather surreal when Castor put the pot on his head and used the spoon to prod the redhead out of the room and responded to all of Ron's venomous statements about the blonde's questionable sanity with _"Castor is a good boy!"_ was rather strange.

After breakfast, Castor took Ron and Harry to the gym for some morning training. Castor had Harry do some warm ups and some sparring with the enchanted swords in his grandmother's case, and then tested Ron's progress with the Polyjuice potion training.

Ron's progress was significant. He could bob and weave quite handily, and kept managing the spar to his advantage, getting in close for strong punches and then dancing away to strike from a distance with quick jabs, never letting Castor control the pace of combat. Castor was actually quite impressed-Though Castor was obviously holding back, Ron proved that he had enormous potential in street fighting and boxing.

He needed to develop better defense though, Castor reflected with a guilty expression, after an uppercut of his own managed to knock Ron into a dazed stagger.

"Er, oops…"

After Ron had sat down and was recovering, Castor turned to Harry with a grin.

"Well, sufficiently warmed up?"

"I think so," Harry replied. He frowned. "So, I guess I'll see you later then?"

Castor grinned. "Actually, I'll be going with you."

"Huh?!"

Arthur Weasley stepped into the gym, briefly looking Ron over who waved him away with a grunt. He then turned to Harry with a smile.

"Well, Castor _is_ your bodyguard… And legal council," Weasley added. Harry blinked.

"I… I get legal council?"

"Yes, if you file the proper paperwork for it, which Mr. Weasley was all too happy to do," Castor nodded thankfully to the Weasley patriarch, who smiled back.

"Not a problem at all for Harry."

"Good! Then let's be off!" Castor enthused, clapping his hands together. Mr. Weasley walked out, and Castor made to follow. He then paused, and snapped his fingers.

"Damn, almost forgot," he mumbled. He turned back to Harry.

"Harry, mind calling Dobby in for something?"

"Dobby?" Harry asked in confusion. A pop later and said house elf appeared. Castor had to visibly reign in his laughter at the red and black checkered T-shirt with the logo for the American Quidditch team the Philadelphia Barnstormers, mismatched green and (literally) glowing purlple socks, and turban the little creature was wearing. Harry started in shock as Dobby smiled.

"Yes, Harry Potter sir? You called for Dobby?"

"Er… Um… Yes, I guess I did," Harry mumbled. He shook his head at Dobby's overjoyed expression.

"Oh, what can Dobby do for the Great Wizard Harry Potter, sir?"

"Dobby," Castor said with a smile. Dobby blinked and looked the tall blonde man up and down, as though trying to recognize him.

"Does Dobby know friend of Great Wizard Harry Potter's?" Dobby asked. Castor shook his head.

"Probably not… Anyway," he said, withdrawing a small bag of white capsules from his pocket, "Harry Potter needs you to put these pills into Dumbledore's food and tea."

Dobby blinked, and turned to Harry with wide eyes. Harry blinked as well, glancing over at Castor who winked. Harry nodded.

"Er, yes. I do."

"Great Wizard Harry Potter is sure Dobby be doing this?" Dobby asked, almost cautious. Harry nodded again, more firmly this time.

"Yes, I'm sure," he repeated. Dobby took the bag and bowed.

"Then Dobby will do so! Dobby is very happy to be serving Great Wizard Harry Potter and his friend! Bye bye!"

With that, the house elf vanished, and Harry glowered suspiciously at Castor.

"What was that?" He demanded. Castor smirked.

"Relax Harry, it's not going to kill him. It's just insurance that he doesn't interfere with your trial."

"Interfere?" Harry asked with a frown. Castor nodded.

"Here's the thing. Fudge thinks you and Dumbledore, together, are a united front against him. If you _both_ show up at your hearing, well, that will just double his hostility and anger. With me, he'll just be more confused because he has no idea who I am; which will keep him off-balance." He grinned and clapped a hand on Harry's shoulder, guiding him out of the gym and towards the front door. Mr. Weasley insisted they go to the Ministry Building the Muggle way, which would show Harry being more humble.

"So… What was in that bag anyway?" Harry asked. Castor smirked evilly.

"Let's just say that, at his age, he could use a little more help to be… Regular."

Arthur Weasley looked up from his examination of Castor's car's headlights to laughter. He blinked as Harry laughed uproariously down the steps of Grimmauld Place, and though confused, he was happy Harry was in good spirits. Though _why_ he was in good spirits, well… Castor's evil grin was probably a good sign that he didn't want to know.

- - -

The drive to the Ministry building took a bit longer than anticipated, primarily because Castor, Mr. Weasley, and the hula girl got into an argument about directions. Castor was sure taking the A3 would put them right on the Ministry, while Mr. Weasley (who collected Muggle maps as well as other Muggle items) insisted on going by Wandsworth Rd. The Hula girl said they both were wrong and that A202 was the best way to go. Which would have involved a much longer drive anyway but she insisted. Finally, Castor handed Harry the map, pointed to where they were, and where the Ministry was, and asked him to decide how to get there.

Harry immediately asked the hula girl to help and she happily directed them by the fastest route, smugly talking down to the two sulking men as they got to the little phone booth that was the street level entrance to the Ministry of Magic well within her projected time.

After entering the building, Mr. Weasley went straight to his office while Castor and Harry headed for the Wizenmagot. Castor managed to get them to the proper place and sat down to wait, before being told that the hearing had been moved back to 8:00. Thus, both had rushed out of the waiting area and through the double doors to the Wizenmagot, a room Harry had seen before in Dumbledore's Pensieve but never actually been in.

"You're late," Fudge stated coldly, glaring down at Harry from the middle of the Wizengamot. His beady eyes glanced over at Castor, standing casually next to the defendant's chair.

"Who are you?"

"Sorry your Honors, you'll need to update your records," Castor replied, and Harry looked to his side and blinked in astonishment at the change that had come over his bodyguard. He stood straight up, hands out of pockets, eyes blazing with determination and face set like stone. Harry was startled at the transformation. No longer was he smirking like he was sharing a private joke, no longer was he relaxed and seemingly lazy.

"And you are?" Fudge asked drolly. Castor nodded.

"Castor Credit, your Honor. I am here to serve as Mister Potter's legal council."

"Legal council?" Fudge asked, irritated. "This is a simple civil matter!"

"A simple civil matter that necessitated the full Wizengamot to be assembled," Castor replied in a strong, even tone. "As established in the 1899 case, _Hodgepodge versus MoM_, any full assembly of the Wizengamot for a trial requires the defendant to be granted legal representation. It is also noted in the MoM Charter of Rights."

Fudge narrowed his eyes, and the squat, toad-like witch next to him leaned over, whispering in his ear. Fudge nodded and leaned back, raising a condescending eyebrow down at the Boy Who Lived and his 'lawyer'.

"What credentials do you bring as a legally recognized solicitor, Mister Credit?"

Castor allowed a small smirk to emerge on his face.

"I didn't bring any, your Honors. By law, Mister Potter is allowed to appoint anyone he chooses as his legal council, regardless of credentials."

"And we are supposed to take you seriously then?" Fudge asked angrily. Castor nodded. Fudge snorted.

"Very well... Yes then, the charges... Let it be known that Mister Credit is serving as the defendant, Harry James Potter's, legal council."

Castor nodded and stood next to Harry, seemingly perfectly composed. Fudge glowered and read the charges aloud.

"The charges against the accused are as follows: That he did knowingly, deliberately, and in full awareness of the illegality of his actions, having received a previous written warning from the Ministry of Magic on a similar charge, produced a Patronus Charm in a Muggle-inhabited area, in the presence of a Muggle, on August the second at twenty-three minutes past nine, which constitutes an offense under paragraph C of the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery, 1875, and also under section thirteen of the International Confederation of Wizard's Statute of Secrecy."

"You are Harry James Potter, of number four, Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey?" Fudge said, glaring over the top of his parchment.

"Yes," Harry said.

"You received an official warning from the Ministry for using illegal magic three years ago, did you not?"

"Yes, but-"

"And yet you conjured a Patronus on the night of the second of August?" said Fudge.

"Yes," said Harry, "but-"

"Knowing that you are not permitted to use magic outside of school while you are under the age of seventeen?"

"Yes, but-!"

"OBJECTION!" Castor shouted, pointing a finger right at Fudge's nose. Ignoring the gasps of several wizards and witches in the chamber Castor continued.

"The charges and nature of his crime have already been inputted into the record. Interrogating my client with a series of questions without allowing him to defend himself constitutes badgering of the defendant, and an obstruction of the hearing proceedings."

Fudge glowered. "This assembly does not recognize your objection!"

"You should find it in the MoM Charter of Civil Liberties, right under Article Nine," Castor replied evenly. Fudge scowled as the fat witch mumbled into his ear. He nodded.

"Objection is so sustained," Fudge growled. The monocle-wearing witch on Fudge's right perked up.

"A Patronus? You created a Patronus?"

Harry nodded. "Yes."

"You mean it was fully formed? Not a mist?"

"No, it's a stag. It's always a stag," Harry replied. Castor smirked as several wizards and witches murmured overhead.

"If the Minister requires the defendant to submit his testimony under Veritaserum or submit his memories to a Pensieve for viewing, he is prepared to do so."

"Not at this time." Fudge growled out. "To continue…"

"Your Honors." Castor interrupted smoothly, "I wish to present evidence that my client did not, in fact, breach the International Confederation of Wizard's Statute of Secrecy."

The courtroom was silent as everyone turned to Castor before the toad-woman leaned forward and whispered into Fudges' ear once again. "So, you're saying that, despite the presence of one Mr. Dudley Dursley at the scene of the crime, that Mr. Potter did _not_, violate the Statute of Secrecy?"

"Correct." Castor nodded confidently; only once again to be met by silence.

Leaning forward, the monocle-wearing witch placed her elbows on the table and folded her hands together. "Please explain, Mr. Credit."

"Certainly." Castor replied. "The International Confederation of Wizard's Statute of Secrecy only applies to Muggles. Dudley Dursley; my client's cousin on his mothers side; is, in fact, a Squib."

The courtroom was suddenly abuzz with hushed whispers as Harry looked at his bodyguard with surprise. "Preposterous!" Fudge roared, half rising from his seat.

"Minister Fudge!" the monocle-wearing witch snapped, "Please compose yourself."

"Forgive me, Madam Bones." Fudge said, sitting back down before addressing Castor. "It's a matter of record that Mr. Potter's only magical lineage on his mother's side is, in fact, his mother. Therefore, his cousin can not be a Squib." He finished triumphantly.

Castor reached into his pocket and pulled out an extremely large leather bounded book. Calmly opening it to a booked marked page, he looked up at the judges. "According to Encyclopedia Thaumaturgy, a Squib is defined as thus.

_"Squib: noun. European colloquialism used to describe any such person who, while unable to perform magic due to an inefficient or damaged magical core, are still able to use any magical device that does not directly use a persons magical core and/or able to see any magical effects and/or magical creatures."_

"It goes on," Castor explained, calmly closing the book and returning it to his pocket, "Listing other names used to describe Squibs and the more common devices that Squibs can use. However, at no point does it mention anything about a person's lineage."

Once again the courtroom was silent as Castor pressed on. "That being said, I am prepared to enter evidence that Dudley Dursley is a Squib; therefore his witnessing any magic that might or might not have been performed by my client does not violate the Statute of Secrecy."

Harry was quite confused (and also quite certain he wasn't the only one there who was) about what Castor was talking about. After all, Harry knew that the Dursleys were about as Muggle as a Muggle could get. He then remembered how curious Castor was about the twin's products; especially the Ton-Tongue Toffees that they used on Dudley.

Castor had repeatedly told Harry that he doesn't lie. However, Harry also knew after growing up with the Dursleys that, sometimes, facts could be laid out in a way that people could come to the wrong conclusion.

After another whispered conversation with the toad-woman, Fudge looked at Castor. "The fact that Dudley Dursley may or may not be a Squib is irrelevant…"

"In that case," Castor once again interrupted smoothly, "I move that all charges against my client concerning the use of magic in the presence of anybody be dropped."

"…what…?" Fudge's strangled voice was heard above the buzz of the courtroom as Harry noticed the Minister's face turn an ugly puce he had only seen before on his Uncle.

"As Dudley, the only witness to my client's alleged crimes, has been described by a member of this august body as 'irrelevant'; any charges concerning illegal activities performed in front of witnesses can no longer apply."

The buzz of the courtroom rose in volume as Fudge leaped from his chair. "OBJECTION!" he bellowed.

Castor looked at the Minister with confusion. "Excuse me, Minister, but you can't object."

"WHAT?!?" Fudge cried, while the toad-woman pulled furiously on his sleeve.

"Mr. Credit is correct." Madam Bones said, her mouth suspiciously concealed by her steepled hands. "As you are not representing either the defense or the prosecution, but sitting in judgment, you cannot object to any statements."

The courtroom quieted down again at the elder Bones's words. Lifting her head slightly, she once again addressed Castor. "Very well then; all such charges against Mr. Potter are dropped. However the charge of violating the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery, paragraph C still stands. How does your client plead?"

By this time, Fudge was once again sitting in his chair; looking quite pleased with himself. Harry, looking at Castor, nodded; letting his bodyguard answer for him.

"My client pleads not guilty by reason of self defense per Clause 7 of Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery; which states _magic may be used before Muggles in exceptional circumstances, which include situations that include the life of the wizard or witch himself, or witches, wizards, or Muggles present_."

"Very well, Mr. Credit. Your client's plea has been entered into the record." Fudge said with an oily smile as he nodded to Percy, who had been furiously transcribing the proceedings. "You may present your…case."

"Thank you." Castor said, stepping forward. Clapping his hands together dramatically, causing many to jump in surprise, the blonde began to pace as he started speaking. "My client, Mr. Potter, is a remarkable young man. Despite the opinions that many hold, no one can deny the facts about his abilities. He has repeatedly shown his quick reflexes on the Quidditch pitch; his good decision making skills under pressure during the Triwizard Tournament; and his keen intelligence when learning about defense and dealing with dark magics' as shown by his school grades."

The courtroom was spellbound by Castor's speech, as Harry couldn't believe that it was him that the blonde was talking about. Looking around, Harry saw many of the witches and wizards present her listening to Castor intently…except for the Minister and the toad-woman; who looked quite ill.

"He has also been called many things and given many titles. The-Boy-Who-Lived; Youngest Seeker in over a Century, Honorary Member of the Dark Force Defense League," Harry blinked at that one, but wasn't surprised that Lockhart hadn't mentioned it in order to inflate his own ego, "Triwizard Champion, 4rd place in Teen Witches Weekly's 'Great Boyfriend Material' for three years running and 2nd place in their 'Bestest Bum' category for last two years, and 2nd place in Witches Weekly's 'Future Manwatch' list for four years running."

Harry was blushing at the end as snickers could be heard. "Could you get to the point, Mr. Credit?" Madam Bones said.

"I am merely presenting my client's credentials, Madam Bones." Castor replied. "Mr. Potter as repeatedly proven to be well equipped, perhaps more so than the average wizard three times his age, to identify a dangerous threat to himself and counter it."

"And how," Madam Bones asked, raising an eyebrow, "do the last few credentials of Mr. Potter you mentioned apply here?"

"Ah." Castor answered with a sheepish smile. "I take it you've never had to deal with rabid fangirls before."

A shiver ran down Harry's spine as he suddenly felt very, very afraid.

"So you're saying," Fudge said, leaning forward, "That Mr. Potter noticed a threat to him and responded to said threat by casting a spell?"

"Yes." Castor said.

"A…Patronus, of all things?" Fudge asked; a gleam in his eyes.

"Indeed." Replied Castor.

A predatory grin crept across the Minister's face. "In other words, you're telling us that Dementor of all things attacked Mr. Potter?"

"Dementor?" Castor asked, perplexed. "At no time did I ever mention a Dementor."

"B-but, you admitted that Mr. Potter would be able identify a threat and respond accordingly!" Fudge stuttered. "Why else would he cast a Patronus unless he thought there was a Dementor!?"

"Lethifolds." Harry blurted, speaking for the first time since Castor began his defense. Seeing everyone's eyes on him, Harry resisted the urge to shrink back. "Everyone knows that a Patronus can be used to drive back a lethifold."

The buzz of muttering was back as Madam Bones leaned back in her chair. "So, you're saying that a lethifold, a creature that lives in the tropics, attacked your client in Surrey, England?"

"I've said no such thing, Madam Bones. I've merely claimed that my client recognized a threat to himself and he responded to it. And no one has denied that my client is quite able to recognize any threat aimed at him or his ability to respond to it. The fact that my client responded with a Patronus charm is irrelevant at this point." Castor turned to look at Fudge and smiled, "Although I am curious as to why our Minister immediately assumed that it was a Dementor that attacked my client."

Looking at the many teeth showing in Castor's smile, Harry suddenly understood why lawyers are sometimes called 'landsharks'.

The whispered conversation between Fudge and the toad-woman was rather fierce and heated with wild gestures and dark looks shot at both Harry and Castor. Finally, after a moment, Fudge turned back to the courtroom and rose.

"Ahem." The Minister cleared his throat with a frown on his face "In light of the observations made during this trial, the Ministry of Magic hereby withdraws the charges against Harry James Potter until such time that the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures can perform a thorough investigation of the crime scene. Court is adjourned."

As the courtroom cleared, Harry leaned over to Castor and quietly asked, "What just happened?"

"Politics." the blonde answered. "It's a dirty game and I hate it; but I know how to play. If he forced the issue, he doesn't know what I'd pull next; and he doesn't know if I could prove if it was a Dementor that attacked your or not. If I could, then he'd suddenly look suspicious of having a hand in sending Dementors after you since he mentioned them first. However, I gave him an out, good timing by the way."

"Then the investigation…" Harry's eyes lit up in understanding.

"Will still be collecting dust when you're old and grey," Castor grinned. "Technically, you haven't been cleared of the charges; but Fudge-packer will make sure it will never see the light of day. Anyway, don't worry about the criminal charges on your record; chicks love the 'bad-boy' image."

- - -

Meanwhile, back in Hogwarts Castle, a certain Headmaster was forced to run back to the bathroom for a fifth time, cursing loudly and making several paintings gasp in scandal.

Dobby watched Dumbledore's reactions, before nodding and snapping his fingers to apparate away.

- - -

_Chapter four for your enjoyment. More evil to come next time!_


	5. Chapter 5

Harry Potter and the Combat Butler

By Andrew J. Talon, SoftRogue and Fitzgerald

DISCLAIMER: Harry Potter is not our property. It belongs to JK Rowling and Time Warner. We're not doing this for profit. The only thing in this story I own is Castor Malfoy.

- - - - - 

**Somewhere in the Sierra Madre Mountains; Central America**

The slow, rhythmic beating of kettle drums echoed through the cavern as the devoted chanted. Upon the dais that was perched over a lava flow, was a stone altar dedicated to the Creator; Gukumatz, that was decorated with a winged serpent surrounded by skulls. A small, beautiful woman gracefully approached the altar dressed in a diaphanous robe. Stopping before the altar, she genuflected low; her long, dark tresses spilling around her body.

Slowing standing, the woman turned to face the devoted before slowly raised her arms skywards, palms facing out as her face was turned upwards; her eyes closed. Once her arms were fully extended; she suddenly snapped her hands closed. Silence suddenly reigned in the cavern, as both the drums and the chanting ceased.

The creaking of chains could be heard as a steel frame was moved across the chamber. Held within the frame was a young man, who was struggling against his bonds; his frantic cries for help rising in pitch. Once the frame came to a stop behind the altar; the woman dropped her arms; signaling the drums to once again begin to play; only this time with a more insistent beat.

The devoted once again began chanting as the woman moved around the altar; moving in time with the steadily increasing beat of the drums. Once behind the altar, she slowly moved the few feet distance remaining to the edge of the precipice which the frame hung.  
Again raising her arms; the woman ignored the pleas of the young man as she added her own chant to that of the devoted.

The beating of the drums began to increase in speed; building to an almost frantic pace as the chanting became louder and louder still. The air became heavy and thick with ancient magics as the echoes of the drums bled into each other. And suddenly; without warning; the chanting and drums stopped.

At that moment, the woman reached forward with snake-like speed, and struck the young man held in the frame in the chest.

The captives' cries reached a new pitch; barely covering a wet, sucking sound before the woman pulled back her arm and turned back to the altar. Raising her arm above her, she proudly displayed the still beating heart of the sacrifice.

The cheers and cries of the devoted roared through the cavern as the woman placed the pulsing organ reverently upon the altar before genuflecting before the offering. As the frame behind her began to descend into the lava below; the woman held her position as the heart began to smoke before it burst into flames.

Once the organ was nothing more than ash, the woman again rose and slowly made her way around the altar; the devoted silencing their cheers. When she was once again standing before the altar, the woman prepared to speak, but stopped when she saw a flurry of movement out of the corner of her eye.

An uncomfortable silence hung in the air as a servant dressed in a feathered robe quickly approached the woman and knelt low before the woman, holding a scroll before him in his upturned palms.

Frowning, the woman took the scroll and slowly opened it as an uncomfortable murmur ran through the devoted. To interrupt the ritual was blasphemous! What could be so important that the servant would right his life like that?

As slow smile crossed the woman's face as she lowered the scroll and looked out at the devoted. "Rejoice, my people!" she declared. "For Gukumatz has shown that he has truly accepted our humble sacrifice!"

Seeing she had the devotees' complete attention, the woman continued. "For theses past few years I, Itzpapalotl, have dutifully served as our people's guide as we prepared for the coming of our God! Now, as the time of his resurrection slowly comes closer, word has reached me that my husband has been located!"

The devoted began to cheer until Itzpapalotl cut them off with a gesture. "The signs have revealed themselves to me and told me that we must prepare to travel to the lands of the white man so I may once again be joined with him! And once the time is right, we shall gladly give of ourselves so Gukumatz may once again walk among us! Sangre para el dios de la sangre! Cráneos para el trono del cráneo!"

**"Sangre para el dios de la sangre! Cráneos para el trono del cráneo!"** the devoted chanted.

As the devoted cheered in celebration, Itzpapalotl allowed a genuine smile to grace her features. She knew that it would some effort on her part to convince her husband of the glory they shall receive once the ceremony was complete. That's why she had plenty of chains.

…and she has oh so many interesting places to chain him to.

After all, Itzpapalotl had repeatedly consulted the ancient texts and they never once mentioned that her and her husband's sacrifice had to be a _virgin_ sacrifice.

True, their time together would be short. However, there was plenty of time for her to bare several children who would continue in the service of the great Gukumatz.

_'Soon.'_ Itzpapalotl thought to herself, _'Soon we shall be together again, my beloved Castor Malfoy.'_

- - - 

An ocean away, in the hallway outside the Wizenmagot, Castor Malfoy sneezed rather loudly. He sniffled, and rubbed his nose. Harry looked over at his bodyguard, a bit concerned.

"You okay?"

"I think so… Could be…" Castor's eyes seemed distant, calculating. He then shrugged and grinned.

"Nah, it's probably nothing. C'mon! I'm starving. You deserve a victory lunch anyway!"

Castor ushered his charge down the hall, a few members of the Wizenmagot passing by. Madam Bones nodded to them, a hint of a smile on her face, while most of the rest of them ignored them both. Castor kept a careful eye on them all, before nodding to Harry and heading down the hallway themselves.

They soon came upon Minister Fudge talking with a familiar figure. Harry felt Castor's hand, still gripping his shoulder, become rock hard, almost painful. He looked up at his bodyguard's face, seeing he still wore that devil may care smile… But with an edge he hadn't seen before. Harry abruptly realized what it was-An _angry_ smile.

Little wonder, considering who was looking away from the Minister to land his cold sneer upon them. 

"Ah! Mr. Credit… Mr. Potter," Fudge began, looking annoyed. Castor continued to grin.

"Minister… Lord Malfoy, I presume?" Harry's bodyguard inquired politely. Lucius Malfoy raised a pale eyebrow at Castor, seemingly puffing himself up.

"I am… Few people know the old, proper ways of address these days," the Malfoy lord observed, frowning at Castor. Harry's bodyguard just shrugged minutely.

"I have a little experience with such things… Second hand, really," he replied. Malfoy's cold gaze stayed on Castor for a few moments more, and Harry almost imagined a flash of recognition had appeared in his eyes. But the moment passed, and his cool gaze fell on Harry.

"Mister Potter… It seems you've gotten out of trouble once more," Lucius observed. Harry stayed perfectly calm, helped a bit by Castor keeping his hand on his shoulder. 

"Yeah… I'm good at escaping," he replied evenly. Lucius merely nodded, turning with a polite, if curt, goodbye to Fudge. The Minister managed a slight nod to both Castor and Harry and scurried away, leaving bodyguard and Boy Who Lived alone in the hallway.

Castor let out a breath. "C'mon. Let's get some lunch, shall we?"

All smiles again he led Harry towards the exit, Harry trying in vain to discern his bodyguard's thoughts. But his eyes and smile once again betrayed nothing.

After informing the happy Arthur Weasley that Harry was perfectly safe and more or less off the hook, the two proceeded into Muggle London, stopping at a nice deli just beginning to experience the lunch crowd. Castor ordered a few grilled ham and cheese sandwiches, fries and soda.

"What'll you have, Harry?"

Harry raised his eyebrows, but gamely ordered a sandwich or two for himself as well, along with a soda and bag of chips. Carrying their food out of the café, they sat in the Corvette and began eating.

"Hmph… You're lucky there are Ever Clean charms all over the interior," the hula girl stated. Castor rolled his eyes, before turning his attention to Harry in the passenger seat.

"So Harry. Tell me about the Sword of Gryffindor." Castor said.

"Well, the only time I used it was in the Chamber..." Harry started, before his bodyguard interrupted him.

"No, I don't want to know about when you used it. I want to know if anything happened _while_ you were using it."

Harry stared at his bodyguard.

"Huh?"

Sighing, Castor explained. "When you were using it, did you suddenly feel empowered or invincible?"

"Um...no?"

"No strange, rough shaven men wearing a billowing black trench coat and orange sunglasses appearing telling you that you have to figure out his name or a negative color version of you appearing and attacking you?"

"Not... That I can recall…"

"Hum...were there three white petal-like things manifesting before you before merging with your clothing?"

"No."

"I see...any sudden desire to start talking in third person, your eyes turning golden, and did you want a sheath for the sword so you can use it to accelerate your attacks?"

"Nope."

"No sudden murderous rages and did you feel like you wanted to rape, kill, and plunder?"

"So, nothing...odd happened?"

"Nothing."

"...not even the urge to wave the sword around several times before thrusting it in the air while shouting _Gryffin! Gryffin! Gryffin! Gryffindor! HOOOOO!_"

"...no, it was just a sword."

"Well...damn." Castor shook his head and leaned back in his chair, chewing thoughtfully. 

"Er… Have you seen magical swords that could do all those things?" Harry ventured, wondering if he had in fact offended his bodyguard in some way. Castor gave Harry one of his jaguar grins once again.

"Yep… All that and more…"

"You have not, you pitiful fanboy," the hula girl sniffed. Castor glared at her.

"Have too… Well… Maybe not _exactly_ all those same things…" He glanced back at Harry with a smile.

"But, there is a pretty decent majority of magic users in this world who use swords like we use wands, and the effects are pretty impressive..."

- - -

**Kyoto, Japan**

A sword sang through the warm summer air, it's wielder keeping it in motion as though performing music on an instrument. Here in the courtyard of the ancient mansion, a lithe, elegant girl with long hair practiced, a smile on her face to the symphony produced by her katana.

It was a good day, Kyoufu Kiryoku decided. A day where she'd just learned the most fantastic news.

_"Zanganken Ni-no-Tachi!"_ She cried, focusing her ki through her blade in a single sling. A blast of ki-enhanced air flew out for a pair of logs, one set behind the other. The first took the strike and was unharmed, while the one behind it was cut cleanly through.

Kyoufu smiled happily.

"YES! I did it!"

She engaged in an energetic dance, laughing in glee. A cleared throat interrupted her victory dance, and she turned around, still smiling at her visitor.

"Father? Did you see? I did it!"

Kyoufu Haburi smiled indulgently at his daughter. "Yes, you did. Very well done, my daughter."

"Oh, this is wonderful! I can't wait to show Castor!" Kyoufu giggled, spinning around on one foot with perfect balance. Haburi chuckled.

"Yes, yes... His aunt was most helpful."

Kyoufu paused, frowning thoughtfully at her father.

"Father... You did not... You are not forcing him, are you?" Kyoufu asked, lower lip trembling. Haburi tried not to grimace. He may have been the leader of the Hogosha Sankaku, the Yakuza group controlling all of Osaka's organized crime, magical and otherwise... But he was wrapped around his only daughter's finger and everyone knew it.

"Ah... No, of course not," Haburi coughed, "I made arrangements with his aunt. This will be a perfectly legal union."

Kyoufu brightened and leaped across the courtyard, tightly hugging her father. "Thank you Father, thank you!"

Haburi smiled and hugged his daughter. He had encountered a number of obstacles on his climb in the Japanese underworld.

One was his lack of respect for tradition. The majority of the Yakuza leaders were too steeped in samurai codes and nonsense like that to truly appreciate the changing world. He had used this against his predecessors and now ruled Osaka. Soon he would branch out, taking over the magical and non-magical underworlds across Japan.

He had procured training from the Sinmei Ryu for his daughter, his bodyguards, his family-All to give his forces an edge in his climb to power. They combined the magical and the non-magical and kept under the police's radar by turning in many of their partners involved in less savory operations.

Yet, Haburi knew he could not rule without a male heir. He could not crush the strongest gangs, the greatest families utterly, no. He had to crush their power and make them respect him. And to do that, he needed a son with guile, strength, and determination to lead with Kyoufu at his side.

Castor Black, disowned prince of Wizarding Britain, was the best candidate he had ever found. He had destroyed the Ryuu Sankuku all by himself, their greatest rivals in Osaka and heavy traffickers in sex slaves taken from Thailand and elsewhere. He himself had disapproved of such operations, ever since his mother and sister were made the sex pets of a particularly vile Yakuza head Higori Kensuke. Vengeance and justice had been delivered by Castor Black.

The fact he now ruled Osaka was also very nice.

But the biggest reason that made Haburi expend so many resources attempting to find Castor after he had slipped away was that Kyoufu loved him. He had met her while he was in town, and over their meetings and interactions his daughter had fallen for the tall, blonde man. That he hadn't taken advantage of this also leaned heavily in his favor.

"But you do realize... He cannot marry you until he has bested my lieutenants," Haburi spoke. Kyoufu leaned back and frowned.

"Even... Takeshi?" She asked quietly. Haburi nodded, face grim. Kyoufu weighed her mind on the subject. Yasojima Takeshi was her father's finest assassin, loyal and intelligent. He had earned her father's trust and had been hoping to become his heir, but his cold, cruel nature frightened Kyoufu. 

He was also her father's finest swordsman.

Castor was strong... But he was not strong in the right ways. She nodded and looked her father in the eyes.

"If I may, father... I would like to go to London, find Castor, and train him in preparation."

Haburi nodded, stifling a sigh. Why his assasins couldn't just accept his decision on heir, he understood. It did not mean he agreed with it.

Still, loyal assassins were loyal assassins, and he did not need them after his neck.

"Very well, Kyoufu. I will make the arrangements."

Kyoufu smiled happily. "Thank you Father! I can't wait to see Castor again!"

- - -

"ACHOO!"

"Bless you," the hula girl supplied, as Castor rubbed his nose and sniffled.

"You're not coming down with a cold, are you?" Harry asked in concern. His bodyguard shrugged and chugged down a bottle of water.

"Eh, I'm fine… Just a bit of dust, that's all…"

"Or someone is talking about you," the hula girl warned. Castor grinned and shrugged.

"Well, I've given many a pretty woman a reason to…" He turned to Harry. "Hero's Code Rule 103, Harry: The local superstitions are _always_ right."

"Oh...Kay?" Harry said, confused. 

The hula girl rolled her plastic eyes. He was absolutely _hopeless…_

- - -

_Further adventures and chaos to come, though at a slower rate of writing. I'm putting many of my stories on hiatus due to writer's block. I'll try to avoid the same for this story but I can't make any promises._

_As always, please review._


	6. Chapter 6

Harry Potter and the Combat Butler

By Andrew J. Talon, SoftRogue and Fitzgerald

DISCLAIMER: Harry Potter is not our property. It belongs to JK Rowling and Time Warner. We're not doing this for profit. The only thing in this story I own is Castor Malfoy.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is simply a random snippets chapter, filled with random scenes I wrote for this story on TFF. I hope this tides you all over while I work out the specifics of the storyline and continue to battle my writer's block. Enjoy…

- - - - -

_Hogsmeade Weekend_

Albus Dumbledore had suffered many a headache throughout his life. Big ones, small ones, some that felt like slight increases of pressure behind his forehead and others like ice picks were being driven through his skull.

At the moment, it felt like the latter as he regarded the three young men and one woman sitting in his office chairs before him.

"Very well... Let's start from the top," Dumbledore began. He turned to Harry Potter, who had the Sorting Hat in one hand and the Sword of Gryffindor in the other. He also had a broad grin on his face. "Harry?"

"Well, Castor decided with all the studying we've been doing and all the work we've put in, we deserved to have some fun, so Castor took us all to Hogsmeade. Hermione and Ron and me," Harry reported. Dumbledore turned to Castor, who had a black eye, numerous cuts and contusions on his face and body, and a cut up, damaged black suit that was his usual attire. Yet he too was grinning like he'd had the time of his life.

"You know, just pop down to the Hog's Head, have a few pints, nothing big," the disowned Malfoy stated. Harry coughed.

"Anyway... Castor said I should bring along the Sorting hat, because if I wore it while I drank some of the hard stuff, I wouldn't get too drunk or have a hangover in the morning..."

"-hic-" Said hat added, drooping more than usual. Harry coughed and continued.

"Anyway... I wore it while drinking-"

"Even though I SAID he shouldn't and that he was underaged," Hermione added with a scowl, for some reason wearing a pink and white dress with lots of zippers that showed off her lovely figure. Harry sighed and nodded.

"Even though she said that..."

"Yes, but after defeating a Dark Lord several times, I pointed out he deserved a bit of a relaxing o' the rules," Castor added cheerfully. "Ron agreed."

"Er, well, yeah," Ronald Weasley offered, for some reason dressed in what many might call in the Muggle world the Indiana Jones outfit and looking far too comfortable in it. "Why not?"

"So anyway, Harry drank a lot, but he was doing all right until the hat... Well... The hat started hitting on the hat of the wizard sitting next to us," Castor supplied. "The wizard thought Harry was hitting on HIM, and he was already a bit sloshed anyway, so he reacted by punching Harry." Castor's grin grew. "Then I got involved and this whole great big barfight broke out! It was great!"

"It was wicked," Ron added with just as large a grin. "Castor grabbed this one bloke's wrist just as he was casting a hex and shoved it into the nose of this other bloke and the hex went off in his nostril! It was bloody brilliant!"

"Ron!" Hermione hissed. Ron pouted.

"But it was," he sulked.

"And... the costumes?" Dumbledore asked, trying to get the conversation back on track.

"Oh, I had Ron make a Portkey just as the Aurors came in and started stunning the guys we didn't take down," Castor said cheerfully. "But he didn't do it quite right and so we ended up in Disney World."

"Disney World...?" Dumbledore asked, blinking. Harry nodded, smiling.

"It was great. We went on the rides, and saw lots of shows... Even Dudley never got to go to Disney World! He just went to Euro Disney."

"Which is lame," Castor supplied. "Really lame."

"So... The costumes...?" Dumbledore asked. Hermione flushed but didn't hide herself.

"Her robes got set on fire... Don't know how," Castor stated. "So we bought her this costume of Kairi from Kingdom Hearts II that she really wanted."

"It was a good game," Hermione muttered quietly.

"Ron got to be in the Indiana Jones spectacular," Harry supplied, "but he thought those zombies were real so he started blasting them with hexes."

"So the Americans Aurors got involved, but Harry pulled the Sword of Gryffindor out of his hat and together we had a great big brawl on the stage!" Castor cheered. "That was the best part of the night, bar none!"

"Except for Space Mountain," Ron pointed out.

"Except for Space mountain," Castor agreed in reverence.

Dumbledore groaned.

"Anyway, Hermione made a Portkey, brought us all back here... And the American Aurors are none the wiser since they don't know who or where we are. After all, it's not like anyone's seen Gryffindor's sword for a few thousand years," Castor said.

"You are never leaving this castle again you lunatic!" Hermione scowled. Castor pouted.

"Oh c'mon... You can't tell me you didn't have fun... Especially making out with that Sora look-a-like."

"WHAT?!" Ron bellowed, glaring at Hermione. "Who the-? When was this?! How could you snog someone you barely know?!"

"I did know him, thanks, and it's none of your business who I snog!" Hermione snarled back. Harry coughed and tried to look innocent, while Dumbledore caught a glimpse of a large, yellow boot under his robes. Dumbledore blinked and stared at Castor, who was still grinning.

"I can't wait until the next Hogsmeade visit!" Castor cheered.

--

_Makes the Medicine Go Down…_

"Children and Staff," Dumbledore announced to the Great Hall one breakfast morning, "I would like to announce that I enjoy red things with pillows fluffed under my tail."

McGonnagal blinked. Snape blinked as well. Nearly everyone else in the Great Hall stared in disbelief, bits of laughter breaking out as the Headmaster continued.

"I have socks with socky things, locks with locky things, and lemony lemon things but no red things," Dumbledore continued brightly, his eyes twinkling in an unusual way. "Ooh, butterflies!"

Indeed, several magical butterflies were formed of a variety of psychodelic colors and went flying about. The student body, not knowing what the hell was going on, still enjoyed the show and laughed and cheered. Snape and McGonnagal exchanged looks and as one looked over at the Gryffindor table.

Ronald Weasley was gaping in astonishment, Hermione Granger had her head down in her hands (but her shoulders were shaking from suppressed laughter), and the Weasley twins were laughing their asses off.

"Castor," Snape growled. McGonnagal sighed and nodded as Dumbledore began to lecture on the importance of 'not-cats' and how red things were grassing the Gunfeld Worlds.

In a nearby lake...

_KABOOM!_

Harry laughed and held out a net, with which he caught several stunned fish. Castor grinned and prepared another grenade.

"See Harry? Fishing doesn't have to be boring..."

"Just what did you do to the Headmaster to let us do this?" Harry asked, still grinning.

"Oh, nothing bad," Castor explained, lighting another cigarette as the boat shook from an underwater explosion. "Just a bit of LSD in his lemon drops..."

--

_Castor as a secret Potions Master_…

Snape's eyes bulged unpleasantly in his greasy eyesockets.

"What?! You're...Po Xian Mas Tao? Wait...Po...tion...mas...ter...I loathe you with every FIBER OF MY BEING."

Castor just grinned.

"Hell, I'm just amused that no one _noticed_."

_Castor's fear of merpeople…_

"Why don't you want to take the boats across?"

"Not gonna talk about it."

"Does it have anything to do with-"

"NOT GOING TO TALK ABOUT IT."

--

_Castor gets a Time Turner…_

"Come Harry! We need to get ourselves a police phone box!"

"Huh? Why?"

"Because I've always wanted to be the Doctor."

"Doctor? Doctor who?"

"Exactly."

"Huh?"

"… You don't know who the bloody Doctor is?!"

"Well… No…"

"Oh that's it. I'm beating the bleeding fuck out of those Dursleys a _fifth_ time…"

"Fifth…?"

"Well, every time I go to apologize and reimburse them, _something_ happens."

"… Something?"

"Yeah. They open their mouths."

--

_The Six According to the Hero's Code…_

"Sidekick?! What do you mean I'm a Sidekick?!" Ron demanded. Castor shrugged.

"Well, you do some sidekick-like things, like provide comic relief to the party, provide certain skills others can't. At the same time though, you're edging towards Draco's role-Pathetic Dick Rival."

"WHAT?!" Ron snarled. Only the knowledge that Castor could kick his ass with ease, wand or no wand, kept him from hexing the blonde man.

"Well, you're jealous of Harry for his material wealth and fame even though he doesn't really want it," Castor began, counting with his fingers, "you antagonize his Main Love Interest/Kick Ass Female Companion and seem to think it's romantic, you're judgmental..."

"Well, what am I?" Neville asked with a frown. Castor smiled as Ron fumed.

"You're the Under appreciated, Nice, Quiet Guy With Hidden Depths of Courage," Castor replies. "You have a warrior wanting to bust through your insecurities and kick ass and take names."

"M-Me?" Neville stuttered. Ginny scowled.

"Hey! Just what am I if Hermione's Harry's love interest?"

"Crazed Stalker of The Hero and Wannabe Kick Ass Female," Castor quipped. He paused and gave it some thought. "Community Broom wouldn't be a stretch either."

"YOU BASTARD!"

"And finally," Castor turned to Luna with a broad smile, "Luna. You are the Seer, the Quirky, Mysterious Kick Ass Female. You know things and while you seem dotty, there's a whole lot more to you under the surface."

"Can't I also be a Love Interest for Harry? I rather like him, and Hermione," Luna stated. Neville gaped, Ron fumed in jealousy, and Ginny seethed.

"Well, there can be two love interests," Castor said with a grin. "You could be Rivals, but I've always felt it's better to get along."

"Me too," Luna said cheerfully, as Hermione blanched.

--

_Family Reunion_

Castor reached forward, almost as though he was about to give Draco a hug, and the younger Malfoy's eyes widened as he was about to step back. But Castor was too quick, and instead of hugging him, his long arms shot out to the sides of Crabbe and Goyle's heads and slammed the two behemoths together.

_CRACK!_

Draco gaped and looked over his shoulder as his thugs slumped to the floor, out cold. Castor leaned back, towering over Draco. The youngest Malfoy gulped, and felt his hand shaking as he tried to reach for his wand.

"Oh no, none of that," Castor stated flatly, quick as a rattlesnake snatching the wand out of Draco's holster. He smirked and held it in front of his pointed nose.

"Give that back!" Draco snarled, reaching up for it. Castor held it high above, and smirked as his little brother tried to jump for it.

"No, no, almost... Almost...! C'mon, you can jump higher than that!" Castor taunted. Draco, enraged, decided to charge the bigger man physically, but Castor would have none of that. He held Draco back with a hand on his forehead, stepping out of range of his fists.

"Hurr! Gah! Stop it!" Draco cried, before Castor let go and sidestepped him, letting Draco fall to the stone floor.

"AUGH!"

"Foolish little brother," Castor smirked, "you lack brains, motivation, and courage. Your father has turned you into a pasty little wuss and ass kisser of that half-blooded, snake humping bastard."

"Shut up!" Draco snarled, getting to his feet and charging Castor again. Castor rolled his eyes and sidestepped again, slamming Draco's face into a wall.

"OOF!"

"Seriously, this is just sad," Castor sighed. He yanked Draco back and tripped him, letting him fall on his back to the floor. He loomed over the terrified and furious Slytherin prince.

"Go, continue to live in an unsightly manner," he intoned in his best Crispin Freeman impression, "and when you want to be more than the Dark Wanker's boy toy, be a real man, come find me."

He headed off, casually tossing Draco's wand on the floor. Draco groaned and lost consciousness.

--

_Family Reunion Part II_

Draco found himself strapped to a chair, something sticky holding his eyes open. He snarled when he saw Castor finishing setting up a white screen of some kind in front of him in the empty classroom.

"You! You bastard, what the hell?!"

"Now now, none of that," Castor grinned cheerfully. "You see Draco, it's obvious that you desperately need some education on just why the Muggle world is a great place, and why the Dark Wanker has no place in it."

"What?! Muggles are scum, filth, vermin! They should all be killed!" Draco roared. Castor rolled his eyes.

"Ri-i-ight... Well, if that's how you really feel about it, then I guess I need to educate you on reality," he stated, stepping to one side of the screen and pulling out a strange device. He pointed it behind Draco, and an image sprang up on the screen. Draco gaped at the image of a beautiful, bikini-clad...

"GRANGER?!"

"Yes Draco, very good," Castor complimented. "This is Hermione Granger, a Muggleborn witch. In addition to being smart, powerful, and compassionate, she's also smoking hot. Now, compare that with this image of a Pureblood woman, Pansy Parkinson's mother, in the nude..."

Draco desperately tried to close his eyes, but to his increasing horror he found he couldn't.

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!"

"Like looking into the future isn't it?" Castor asked with the smile of a cat about to maul a canary. "Guh, those _wrinkles_! That's just wrong." Castor clicked his device again, now showing an image of Hannah Abbott smiling cheerfully in a blue bikini.

"This is Hannah Abbott. Notice how she's inheriting her mother's measurements. Very nice, eh? Now... Millicent Bulstrode's mother, nude-"

"AUUUUGHHHHHH!"

"See the difference? No?"

"STOP IT! YOU BASTARD! I SWEAR TO MERLIN I'LL KILL YOU!"

Some hours later...

"Here are the Patil twins, enjoying a jar of peanut butter... Here's the only set of twins Father would let you marry..."

"Please, please! Make it stop, _make it stop!_"

Castor smirked. Yes, it was only a matter of time now...

--

_Unspoken Crimes_

"So, has Harry ever opened up about the abuse?" Castor asked Sirius. The former Marauder blinked, staring at him.

"Abuse?"

Castor took a long drag off his cigarette and nodded.

"Yes, abuse. It's written all over him. He just stiffened up when Hermione hugged him. He's clearly unused to physical affection, surefire sign of neglect. And his medical records from the school..."

Sirius gave his cousin a scowl. Castor shrugged.

"Hey, I do my homework before I take on any job, and to be a proper bodyguard I need to know everything I can about Harry," he replied. Sirius crossed his arms over his chest, anger growing but not at Castor.

"What did you find out?" He asked flatly. Castor sighed.

"Signs consistent with malnutrition, neglect, some old injuries and scars consistent with physical abuse... It's all in Madam Pomphrey's files."

"This was all noted?" Sirius asked, sick with rage. _Dumbledore put Harry with those people, and he didn't...?!_

"Calm down Sirius," Castor advised. "Running off to beat the hell out of that old fogie... Actually that's a great idea, but doing it right this second? Not what we should do. No, what we need to do is correct the damage."

Sirius nodded. "Big meals, exercise, hugs, girls?"

"Positive reinforcement, and getting him to open up about his anger and depression," Castor added. He shrugged at Sirius's raised eyebrow. "Hey, I went to Muggle uni for a while to see what it was like. Didn't graduate but sure learned a hell of a lot." He smirked.

"Plus, it helps to know what the other guy is thinking before even _he_ knows it..."

--

_Socks and Lemon Drops_

"So, the charges are child neglect, child abuse, embezzlement, and..."

Harry looked up from the Muggle newspaper depicting the Dursleys being led away by the police. Castor was, per his usual, leaning against the wall nearby with a smirk.

"Making of child pornography and drug trafficking?" Harry asked, blinking in disbelief. Castor's smirk grew.

"Those would be Dudley's charges. Oh, and a few assault and attempted sexual assault reports from around the neighborhood after seeing his gang can't intimidate them anymore."

"Blimey..." Ron blinked. "Hey Harry, what's sexual assault?"

Castor blinked and looked at Harry. The Boy Who Lived coughed and stood up.

"Well, I'd better go check on something I probably forgot to-"

Castor firmly grabbed Harry's shoulder and turned him around.

"Ohhh no you don't, you're not leaving me here to deal with this."

Castor was silent and thoughtful for a moment.

"Let's get Dumbledore to do it and then ditch him."

Harry smirked.

"He'll get us back."

"We have two Marauders, the Weasley Twins, Hermione and Tonks on our side. He's got his Pet Death Eater, lemon drops, and a sock fetish. We have an overwhelming advantage in awesomeness."

Harry nodded slowly. "Well, when you put it that way..." He smirked.

--

_PE Class_

Ron groaned. Harry, lying on the ground nearby, groaned back.

"Ugh..."

"Gah..."

"C'mon guys!" Castor shouted with a grin, jogging in place and obscenely cheerful despite the sun only just having risen over the Hogwarts grounds. "We've only got three more miles to go!"

"How... Can he be... So happy...?" Hermione moaned, leaning against a rock. Various other members of Hogwart's new "Physical Education" class laid around, victims of an Death Jog and pushed forward with excessively cheerful encouragement and exhortations. Many of the girls (and a few of the guys) hadn't needed too much encouragement to run and watch Castor Malfoy and Harry Potter in tight T-shirt and jogging shorts, but even hormones had their limits.

Castor looked around at his class and sighed. "Okay... Maybe I pushed you guys a little hard for the first day..." He shrugged... Then grinned deviously.

"Of course, maybe I can offer... Incentive."

A few heads popped up.

"You'll carry us?" Asked Lavender hopefully, batting her eyelashes. Castor resisted the urge to roll his eyes easily.

"No... But... If you can catch me..."

"Oh God," Hermione moaned.

"He wouldn't," Ron gaped.

"He would," Harry stated with the air of a man facing the gallows.

Castor grinned maniacally. He looked at the Weasley Twins, who looked less tired but nevertheless a bit exhausted. Still, at the blond man's grin, they grinned too. They drew their wands and muttered a spell, and suddenly everyone felt a great deal... Colder.

Castor pulled a laundry bag out of one of his Bottomless Pockets. He smirked as realization lit up in everyone's eyes.

"You get your knickers back! BWAHAHAHAHAHAHA!" He cackled evilly, turning and running off with the bag over his shoulder like a demented Santa Claus.

"GET BACK HERE!"

"LYNCH THE BASTARD!"

"YOU CAN KEEP MY UNDERWEAR!"

--

_Superhero Dialog Training_

Breakfast at Hogwarts was supposed to be a sedate affair. _Supposed to_ being the operative phrase.

"En Garde!"

"Ha! You'll never take me alive!"

Dumbledore felt another headache coming on as Castor appeared in the main doors to the Great Hall, furiously dueling both Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley with what appeared to be plastic swords. Castor effortlessly deflected their strikes, tripping Ron up and sending him crashing to the floor when he lunged and slamming Harry into another wall. Castor grinned and swung his sword around as both boys got back up, smiling determinedly back.

"Foolish Captain Potter and Twit Wonder ("HEY!"), you cannot stand before me!"

"Never! Come Twit Wonder, we must defeat the evil Lord Bleach!" Harry stated dramatically. Ron scowled but joined his friend, attacking Castor together.

"Why am I the Twit Wonder?! I want a better name!" Ron shouted, Castor still deflecting all his and Harry's attacks with just one blade.

"What's wrong with Twit Wonder?" Castor asked, ducking a swing from Harry and tumbling over a low swing from Ron.

"How can you ask that?" Ron demanded. Hermione walked into the Great Hall, rolling her eyes.

"Don't. Ask," she stated to all and sundry. Luna watched with rapt fascination.

"Should they not be wearing different costumes?" She asked.

"AHA! Super Noogie, courtesy of the Dark Lord Bleach!"

"NOOOOO! Save me, Twit Wonder!"

"STOP CALLING ME THAT! AND RELEASE CAPTAIN POTTER, SINISTER FIEND!"

"Not bad, but you spoiled the declaration by telling him to stop calling you Twit Wonder first. It's more amusing if you say that at the end!" Castor grinned and released Harry. "But don't worry! These exercises will easily let you get Heroic Dialog down Twit Wonder!"

"Can I PLEASE be called something other than Twit Wonder?" Ron whined.

"Seems to suit you just fine," Ginny teased as she walked through the doors.

"OY!"

--

_Revolutionary_

"_Hem-Hem..._ Mr. Potter, exactly what are you doing?"

Harry shrugged and finishing shuffling the cards. He turned to Ron next to him. "Game of poker? Sure to be more educational than this."

"W-WHAT?!" Umbridge demanded. "You will pay attention immediately or I will have you for detention!"

"Go ahead, I won't show up," Harry stated simply, quickly doling out cards for Ron and himself. He looked over at the astonished Lavender and Parvati in front. "Care to join the game girls?"

"Mr. Potter! Cease this at once or I will have you expelled!" Umbridge seethed. Harry completely ignored her, tossing a Knut on the table.

"One knut."

Ron turned and smiled charmingly at Parvati and Lavender. "C'mon girls, plenty of cards."

"Expulsion for you both! How dare you interfere in my lesson!" Umbridge screamed. Parvati blinked, looking back and forth between the reddening Umbridge and the perfectly calm Harry and Ron.

"Deal us in," she stated, turning her chair around. Lavender followed as Harry expertly flipped cards out to them, the rest of the class beginning to come out of their stunned silence.

"You know, I could be catching up on my Charms," Neville mused, pulling out other homework and beginning to work.

"EXPULSION FOR YOU ALL! I'LL CALL THE AURORS IN TO TAKE YOU ALL AWAY!" Umbridge raged.

"Hey Hermione, could you share some of your Potions notes with me?" Dean asked. "I lost mine."

"Yeah, me too!"

"Hermione, care to join the game?" Harry asked with a smile. Hermione glanced at Umbridge, whom the rest of the class was ignoring, people talking and doing other activities. She shrugged, and walked over to the desk past the raging toad woman.

"Why not? You know, poker is good for negotiations and body language reading," she said conversationally.

"THAT'S IT! YOU'RE ALL UNDER ARREST! I'LL SEE YOU ALL GO TO AZKABAN!"

Harry smirked as he dealt Hermione a hand. Castor was right-She _did_ remind him of a substitute teacher at his old school. She had no power if she couldn't get the class to obey. And even if she called in the Aurors, how foolish would that make her look, being unable to control her students without calling in the police?

Castor, watching from a chair in the corner of the classroom, sighed and leaned back in his chair with a grin. Sure, he'd have preferred to just shoot the bitch, but this worked nearly as well.

--

_Random scenes and dialog is a whole lot easier than an actual, full storyline. I blame my short attention span._

_Author's Note 5-5-08: That last scene was inspired by BajaB's "Almost a Squib". I meant no disrespect to the good author, and I apologize for not crediting him sooner._

_Per Rorschach Blot's "Odd Ideas", I am officially allowing other authors to use Castor Malfoy in their stories as long as they ask permission first. I don't want him to languish in writer's block limbo._

_And as usual, please review._


	7. Chapter 7

- - - - - - -

Harry Potter and the Combat Butler

By Andrew J. Talon, SoftRogue and Fitzgerald

DISCLAIMER: Harry Potter is not our property. It belongs to JK Rowling and Time Warner. We're not doing this for profit. The only thing in this story I own is Castor Malfoy.

- - - - - -

"_I've paid my dues, time after time,"_ could be heard just outside of the door to Grimmauld Place. The Twins and Ginny perked up, red heads exchanging slightly confused expressions. Mrs. Weasley looked up from her cooking in equal confusion. Hermione sighed.

_"I've done my sentence, but committed no crime! And bad mistakes, I've made a few!_" The door opened, Castor cheerfully kicking the beasly umbrella holder before it could trip anyone. He led a smiling, though rather weirded out looking Harry into the kitchen, even as the ex-Malfoy continued to sing.

"_I've had my share of sand kicked in my face, but I've come throughhhh!_" He crescendo'd. Mrs. Weasley blinked and then scowled.

"Castor Potentias Malfoy, what the devil do you think you're-?!"

"Uh uh uh, wait for it," Castor said. The Twins grinned and supplied the _"And go on, and on and on and onnn!"_ as Castor manfully built up into the chorus.

_"Weeee are the champions, my friiennds, and we'llll keep on fighting, to the ennd!_"

"Bum bum bum, bummm," Sirius supplied, stepping in and throwing an arm around Harry's shoulder with a proud grin.

_"We are the Champions, weee are the Champions! No time for looosers, cause we arrre the Championnnss-!_"

_CLANG!_

"OW! OW! OW! BLOODY FUCKING HELL ON A-! OWWW!" Castor cried out, holding the bridge of his nose where Mrs. Weasley's frying pan had struck him. The red head woman glowered and put her hands on her hips.

"Hello Harry, it's nice to see you. I trust the trial went well?" She asked the rather disturbed looking teenager. He nodded.

"Uh, yes..."

"Mum, I think the victory song more than explained _that_," Ginny stated flatly. Molly glowered. Castor stopped wincing and looked over at Harry's questioning gaze. He shrugged.

"Heroic Rules of Heroically Heroing number 28: Anyone can get a lucky shot, and anyone can get careless."

"And anyone can bawl like a great baby at getting beaned in the eye," Sirius added with a mock-sympathetic look. Castor glowered, but nodded and conceded the point. He smiled charmingly at Mrs. Weasley and quickly detailed the outcome of the case.

"So, he's not officially off but the charges are buried to the point they'll never show the light of day without making Fudge look like a criminal?" Mrs. Weasley repeated, used to summarizing things for her children. The twins grinned at the older blonde.

"Have to say, it was clever," George said.

"Doubly sneaky. And the bad boy cred does get you birds," Fred added.

"We should know."

"Mum doesn't like it though."

"Even though it's what may have attracted her to Dad-"

"Now that's enough of that," Mrs. Weasley stated flatly, turning slightly red. She shook her head. "Well, c'mon! Sit down! I'll have some lunch for you all."

"Er... Right. Thanks," Harry said, sitting down to a second lunch with a Castor who did not seem the slightest bit concerned. The Weasley twins and Sirius started up "We are the Champions" again, with Ginny quickly picking up the lyrics. Harry looked over at Castor, who shrugged.

"Got me," he muttered. Hermione walked in, looking extremely pleased with herself as she too joined in with the song. Harry stared at her, and she winked at him, making him blush. Castor blinked at this, before chuckling and digging into the food.

- - - - - - -

Lucius Malfoy had made something of a career out of studying people's body language. The slightest twitch, the smallest tightening of the brows could all be signals that one was about to draw their wand. Or a blade, depending on the circumstances. While not his first choice of weapon, the noble art of fencing was a Malfoy tradition, and even Draco had learned the basics.

Lucius himself practiced it regularly, finding the sport to help maintain mental discipline and focus. Handling a blade was, in some respects, more noble than a wand. Lucius of course would never let anyone know he felt this way, but being face to face with a man, cutting him down, seeing the look in his eyes as he fell and knew you were his superior, well...

Lucius could not help the savage satisfaction of such work. The fact that those incompetent fools at the Ministry would attribute death by a blade to some obscure spell made it all the better.

As he sparred against an animated suit of armor in his mansion, Lucius found his thoughts drifting to the trial earlier that day. Quite frankly it was just what he had expected of Fudge: The blustering fool would bring down his power as sharply as he could upon Potter. WIth the media in his pocket he could do so with impunity.

Truthfully, Lucius had not expected it to come to anything. He had expected Dumbledore to step in and save the boy with his influence, and even if he hadn't, anyone with half a brain could see how easy it would be to foil the charges.

He struck the armor on the head, a small point counter nearby turning to indicate his hit. The armor rest to it's starting position, as did Lucius, and they began again.

Of course, something unexpected had happened: Castor Credit.

_Or should I say, Castor Malfoy,_ he mused with a frown, narrowly parrying a strike from the armor. His son was back.

_The old goat must have hired him,_ Lucius thought with a scowl, going on the offensive against his animated partner.

He was not ignorant of his son's... Activities. Most seemed far too fantastic to be taken seriously. But there was a tiny glimmer of pride in his erstwhile son, for gaining such a reputation.

Of course, his son would have to be done away with, or driven off somehow. There was little choice. He was too dangerous, too well traveled. Why his master continued to think they could ultimately rule the entire world was beyond him-They were heavily outnumbered, for one thing. Muggle bred like rodents. For another, why should they bother with the rest of that filth? Ruling Britain, remaking it in their image, those were worthy aspirations, aspirations that were realistic.

But his Lord wanted the world.

Lucius snorted and defeated the armor with a quick combo, thrusting his sword through it's helmet. He did not use those paltry foils that supposed swordsmen utilized, but actual blades-In his case, a rapier. He yanked the sword back from his foe's helmet, the score counter giving him victory. He nodded, satisfied, and turned to reach for his towel.

"Master Malfoy!" Said his house elf, popping in with a bow. Lucius sneered.

"What?" He asked, wiping his brow with his towel.

"Mistah Snapey here to see you!" The elf informed him. Malfoy nodded curtly.

"Send him in then, fool," he snorted. The house elf vanished with another pop, and a few moments later the Potions professor emerged in the study, looking singularly displeased.

"Lucius."

"Severus," Lucius returned. "What brings you here?"

"I trust the trial went as expected?" Snape sneered. Lucius mentally sighed. Another thing he detested about working for the Dark Lord-Snape and his pathetic obsession with that mudblood and her brat. He was no fan of Potter himself (either of them) but hatred was a means by which you were controlled.

"Potter escaped by means of my _son_," Lucius spoke flatly. Snape's eyes narrowed.

"I see... Have you informed the Dark Lord yet?"

"I suspect his other spies in the government have no doubt informed him," Lucius spoke. "It would be difficult to miss."

"I meant about your son," Severus spoke, a dangerous glint in his eye. Lucius glanced over at Snape. He knew that look.

"Are you here to _complain_ to me about my son, Severus?" Lucius asked, amused. Severus sneered.

"I'm here to ask you to do something about him. There is no need to take him back into the family-He serves Dumbledore as a mercenary! Enough gold in his pockets will-"

"Will get him out of your hair, Severus?" Lucius asked mildly. Severus looked as though he'd swallowed a lemon. Lucius shook his head, replacing his blade in its case and sitting down in an easy chair at his desk. He began to go over some financial records as Snape continued to fume.

"The boy is a loose cannon. He could be dangerous to us," Severus tried. Lucius shrugged.

"Then I will deal with him when the time comes," Lucius said flatly. He looked up at Severus. "Was there anything else?"

Severus' sneer deepened. "Are those potions ingredients on the way?"

"Yes, yes, all on the way," Lucius stated. Severus nodded curtly, and with his black robes waving dramatically, he exited. Lucius allowed himself the luxury of rolling his eyes.

"He is such a Prima donna," a smooth, feminine voice said. Lucius shook his head.

"That would imply he is vital, despite how irritating he is."

Narcissa Malfoy nee Black entered the room with her usual grace. Amusement was in her pale eyes as she took in the scene.

"Does the Dark Lord not think so?" She questioned with a slightly teasing tone. The Malfoy head smirked.

"The Dark Lord thinks... _Many_ things."

"Such thoughts are dangerous," Narcissa admonished gently. Lucius shrugged, arranging his fingers on the desk in front of him in a thoughtful steeple.

"Only if one cannot hide them," the Malfoy head noted lazily. His wife shook her head and walked next to Lucius, leaning over to look him intently in the eyes.

"Her again?" She questioned. Lucius nodded slowly.

"Again..." He took his cane out and drew his wand from it, scrutinizing it carefully. Narcissa shook her head.

"Your wand?"

"It seems ludicrous, but... I feel it pull on my magic whenever _she_ appears," Lucius hummed. Narcissa's frown grew.

"Appears?"

"Just out of my line of sight. Like a phantom," Lucius mused.

"Is she beautiful?" Narcissa asked. Lucius smirked.

"Jealous?"

"Not hardly," Narcissa chuckled.

"Would it help if I said she reminded me of you?" Lucius asked. Narcissa hummed thoughtfully, sinking into her husband's lap.

"A bit, yes," she admitted. Lucius held his wife and allowed himself a small chuckle.

"Then it is settled."

"To a point," Narcissa said. She looked him in the eyes again, an eyebrow raised.

"How did he look?"

"Castor?" Lucius snorted. "Dressed like a Muggle drifter. Seems in good health."

"He's grown then?"

"Shot up like a weed," Lucius observed. Narcissa smiled.

"He has several dangerous women after him." Her smile became mischievous. "Somewhat like his father."

"I only had one, and she was set upon me," Lucius reminded her with a dry tone, leaning in close to her. Narcissa laughed quietly.

"Yes, but I saw others." She pressed her nose against his with a sigh.

"You are not so different."

"Nonsense," Lucius growled. "We are nothing alike. He threw away his life over mudbloods."

"Friends, my dear Lucius," Narcissa spoke. "Would you not do the same?"

Lucius snorted. "Friends are a luxury I do not have."

"Family then."

"Without blood to bind us?"

Narcissa shrugged. "There are those who look past it... Merely an observation, of course."

Lucius sighed. "I had hoped he would stay out of this."

"He would've gotten involved sooner or later. He's a Malfoy. He can't stay out of anything," Narcissa smirked. Lucius snorted and kissed his wife gently.

"Unfortunately..."

- - - - - - -

The rest of the time before the Hogwarts Express was to leave was filled with training, cleaning out Grimmauld Place, and his birthday, upon which Ron and Hermione received shiny new Prefect badges. Harry had felt a bit jealous about it, but this soon passed. After all, Castor, Bill and Charlie had all cheerfully told Ron that they would be increasing his training regimen to go with his new responsibilities-Something that made the youngest male Weasley wince.

Not that Harry or Hermione were being let off the hook-Harry alternated his days between training with the schiavona and learning the basics of _Jeet Kun Do_. As Castor put it, it was "easy to learn, ungodly hard to master", and Harry believed him. Though the style was difficult, even with Polyjuice training, he was finding that it complimented his swordplay, which was getting better all the time.

Hermione for her part was coming along nicely in Savate, after she got over the first hurdle of kicking. Harry had difficulty not watching Hermione train with her style. He just kept fixating on her legs, nicely shown off in the shorts she wore for fighting. The aerobics and acrobatics Castor showed them all also drew his attention to her.

It didn't help that, due to Ron's increased training schedule, whenever Harry did have a free moment it was invariably spent with Hermione. Ever the good student, Hermione worked Harry through his summer homework and studying for this year's classes, things that Harry found he actually enjoyed when he began to apply himself (and when Ron wasn't around to distract him). As well as talking with Hermione. He suspected Sirius and Castor of being up to something, but the two older men didn't elaborate.

Though even more distracting that Hermione (in a bad way), was when Ginny wanted to begin training. "After all, I'm going to be trying out for the Quidditch team this year," she said, looking significantly at Harry. "And I need to work on my stamina."

The resulting sick feeling in Harry's stomach had _nothing_ to do with his hormones. He was sure of that much.

Castor and Molly had had a fight about _that_ detail, the moment the polyjuice potion training came up the first day Ginny went to the gym.

"No. None of this Polyjuice training, Castor! I won't have it!" Molly growled. Castor looked back at her calmly, an unlit cigarette in his mouth.

"Ron and the others are getting it too-"

"I want you to stop training them too!" Molly said angrily. "You-You shouldn't be turning them into-into-!"

"Into what, Molly?" Sirius asked, having heard the conversation from the stairs, and now coming down to see what the ruckus was about. Molly turned her glare upon him too.

"Into _soldiers,"_ she growled. "They're just _children!"_

"Yes, because _all_ children regularly have dark wizards after them on a yearly basis," Sirius said sarcastically. Molly's complexion became very red in her anger.

"It's _his_ job to protect Harry! He shouldn't teach the others this-this fighting! This martial arts or whatever!"

"If they can protect themselves better, then my job is easier," Castor argued. "They're safer too-"

"Castor Malfoy, you will NOT turn my children into _soldiers!"_ Molly screeched.

"_Malfoy?!"_ Gasped Ron from the training room. Hermione and Ginny turned to him as one.

"Shut _up,_ Ron!"

Molly continued her tirade. "You will _stop_ this training right now!"

"Or what?" Castor asked in a cold tone. Molly sniffed.

"I'll have Dumbledore stop you!"

"If you felt this strongly about it, you would have already talked to him about it," Sirius stated flatly. Molly gritted her teeth, and the Black smirked.

"So, you already have-"

"SIRIUS! Harry is not James! Harry isn't supposed to be _fighting-!"_

"But I am!" Harry said, very cross that Mrs. Weasley was just barging in like this. He did care for the woman a lot but this was too far. "I'm going to be fighting whether I like it or not. _Voldemort_ is going to be coming for me, and he won't care if I'm just a kid!"

"That's right, Mrs. Weasley," Hermione said. "He didn't care that Harry was a baby!"

Molly gritted her teeth and was about to rant some more, before Castor held up his hands.

"All right, all right, look. Let's compromise. I need to finish Harry, Hermione, and Ron's training anyway." He neglected to mention the Twins had begun training as well, but they were legally adults and Molly had no power over that area. "Ginny, I'll just keep her to the excercises."

"Why do you need to finish their training at all?" Molly protested. Castor sighed.

"Because if I leave it incomplete then they might hurt themselves. Plus, it'll good for them, fitness wise."

Molly was silent for a time, narrowing her eyes and trying to judge Castor's sincerity.

"No Polyjuice training for Ginny or any of my other children… And you only _finish_ the training for the others?"

"I promise," Castor said, looking her in the eyes. Molly sighed, and with a curt nod she turned and headed for the kitchen. Sirius sighed as well, shaking his head.

"What? No training for me?" Ginny demanded. Castor gave her a look, and slowly winked. Ginny blinked back, but soon got it and grinned.

Ron, however, was not pleased, as evident by his distrusting glare at Castor.

"You're a bloody _Malfoy?!"_ He snarled. Castor sighed, as Harry quickly intervened.

"He _was_ a Malfoy Ron, _was._ He's not one anymore, they disowned him-"

"So bloody what?! He's still a Malfoy!" Ron said. "You can't trust any of them!"

"Ron, would you stop being such a Wizard for a second and _think?_ If Castor was working for You-Know-Who, why would he be training us to better defend ourselves?" Hermione asked in a tired sort of tone. Ron sputtered.

"He-It's-It's part of an elaborate plan-!"

"To make you stronger, faster, and better," Castor drawled. He nodded and gave Ron a biting smirk. "Yes, yes, it _all_ makes sense now doesn't it?"

"You bastard, don't you make fun of me!" Ron shouted. Castor sighed and shook his head. Harry gave Ron a glare.

"Ron… I trust Castor. You trusted him too. Why does his old last name make any difference?"

"Well… He's…!" At the glares he was receiving, Ron heaved a huge sigh and just glowered at Castor.

"You don't support You-Know-Who, and never have?"

"RON!" Hermione gasped, but Castor just chuckled.

"Ron, I'm a _Squib._ Voldemort would no doubt kill me the same as he would a Muggle. Especially since I think he's a fucking bastard without the sense God gave a turnip." He looked at Ron seriously. "That enough for you?"

Ron stared back unflinchingly, and ever so slowly nodded. He huffed.

"Fine… Just so you know; I'll be watching you!"

"I'll be on my guard then," Castor said dryly.

- - - - - - -

"Hmm, I wonder what building has enough steps," Hermione commented out loud as she watched Ron working a heavy bag under Bill's direction. It was a few days later, and other than training more heavily with Bill and Charlie when he was around, Ron had slowly stopped shooting Castor quite so many glares.

"Proving he's a contender eh," Castor quipped before taking a sip out his bottle of water. "London's too flat, but the stairs at Hogwarts would work perfectly."

"Not the Astronomy Tower though," Ginny said dryly, before giving Harry a wink and adding. "It's likely to be far too busy."

Harry's face lost all color and his eyes took on a horror struck glaze at Ginny's remark, and so Harry froze into place momentarily.

A moment the enchanted schiavona currently attacking Harry used to clout him in the face with the basket hilt.

Crumbling to the floor from the blow Harry landed not with a thud, but with a light slap as he rolled back up to his feet and brought his sword up into a steady guard.

Ginny frowned at Harry's rather negative reaction to her comment.

"That will never do student," the magical image of Dorea Potter stated in a disapproving tone as she returned to hover over the large crystal orb that was the focus of the training artifact.

"Do not let your focus waver no matter the situation," both Dorea's and another woman's voice echoed.

"I see you're putting Dorea and Charles device to good use Harry," a woman who bore a good deal of resemblance to Tonks, Sirius, Dorea and indeed Narcissia said pleasantly.

"_Desino_," the woman commanded.

In response the image of Dorea whipped her shiavona around in a salute and commented, "Until next session student."

"Aunt Andromeda," Castor called out cheerfully. "It's been ages."

Andromeda raised one carefully sculpted eyebrow and stated in a measured tone, "Indeed. Not to mention three lawsuits, five breech of bail conditions, and most happily one inquiry as to your marital status from a rather lovely young lady from Japan. Bills for my work on your behalf,"

"Forward to the usual address," Castor said with a roguish grin. "Hero's rule #83 Harry, always pay your Solicitor promptly. A hero's work is difficult to accomplish when in the local lock up over a _slight_ misunderstanding over drinks."

"If that's what your calling it these days," Andromeda said in a lightly amused tone. "It's a pleasure to meet you Harry, and a double one to see Dorea's creation being well used. However business before pleasure, Sirius has a few legal matters he wished to discuss with me. Feel free to owl me anytime."

"That would awesome Mrs. Tonks," Harry said in an excited tone. "I know so little about my family."

"I may scrape together a few dozen stories in time for the first Hogsmead weekend," Andromeda said in a pleased tone. "It will be my pleasure to pass them along."

"As well once you've reached an acceptable level we should spar," Andromeda concluded before slipping her arm into Castor's.

"Now my dearest nephew," Andromeda stated in a tone of voice that would broke no nonsense, "Tell me all about this delightful young lady I've taken to corresponding with, and how you two met."

"That's an example of why they call the Blacks a most Ancient and Noble House," Bill said in the silence that followed Castor's and Andromeda's exit. "Damn impressive. Right, well enough lounging around. Back to business."

- - - - - - -

After hearing the tale of how he'd gotten mixed up with the Yakuza, Andromeda could do little more than shake her head. Her nephew's exploits certainly left her with no end of work… And headaches. They sat in the Black library, sipping some tea Andromeda had graciously requested and accepted from Molly.

"So, how'd Kyoufu find me?" Castor asked.

"You left her an address?" Andromeda suggested. Castor winced, and then shrugged.

"I er… Didn't know she was Yakuza until later. I was just-"

"Following PRAGS, yes, I know," Andromeda said dryly. Her nephew gave her an affronted look, and she chuckled.

"Nothing wrong with following a code of honor, Nephew. Yours just tends to get you into trouble."

"Some, yes, but nothing from Kyoufu, correct? Just an inquiry as to my marital status," Castor said.

"Would you be interested in responding?" Andromeda asked. Castor sighed.

"I can't, Aunt Andromeda. I mean, look at me. I'm always on the road."

"Your current employment seems to have you nicely… Confined," Andromeda suggested, taking a sip of her tea. Castor snorted.

"It involves fighting dark wizards."

"She's a practitioner of _Shinmei-Ryu,_ Death Eaters would be little threat to her."

"I don't love her," Castor said simply, honestly. Andromeda hummed.

"Your father grew to love your mother quite deeply."

"Don't remind me," Castor said flatly. He shook his head and shrugged.

"Besides, it was only an inquiry. I know, I might have to dodge some Yakuza for a while, but she'll get over it eventually, find someone nice-"

"It was a bit more than an inquiry," Andromeda said. Castor stared at her… And paled.

"You _didn't."_

"It wasn't my idea," Andromeda said with a charming smile. "Her father wished to know whom he would have to contact about marriage-"

"You _didn't! _Aunt Andromeda, really... I can't accept this!" Castor proteste. His aunt eyed him with her best "no nonsense" look, something the Black Sisters had all been taught by their mother. Castor grimaced.

"Look, as much as I might like to get... Married... I have to protect Harry. It's a full time job."

"I imagine it would be, considering how often the boy gets into trouble," Andromeda allowed. "Even so, the initial arrangements for an _omai_ have been made."

"I'm not even part of the Malfoy family anymore," Castor stated. "You're disowned as a Black, too."

"I'm also your solicitor," she reminded him. Castor groaned.

"Shit."

"Language, my dear Nephew."

"It's appropriate. Should've known," he sighed. Andromeda shook her head with a soft smile.

"And your mother, well, she was simply thrilled with all of the marriage offers she has been receiving-"

"Thanks to you, and-Wait. _Offers_? Plural?"

Andromeda chuckled. "Narcissa is thinking of pestering Lucius to have Draco go off around the world on his own when he comes of age, following this PRAGS of yours. It would probably do the little git some good."

"Or, you know, you could simply turn Draco into a girl and marry him off that way," Castor suggested. Andromeda hummed thoughtfully.

"Now that's an idea... I'll have to run it by Narcissa of course." She glanced at Castor. _"You_ are not off the hook though, young man."

"Mum can't marry me, she's not the head of the clan," Castor grinned. "And Lucius won't do anything because I don't exist."

"That might change if you and he knew just _how many_ marriage offers I have received since your return," Andromeda said, with the tone of a chessmaster who has backed her unworthy opponent into a corner. Castor eyed her with a growing feeling of dread.

"How many...?"

Andromeda told him.

In the training room, the sounds of Castor Malfoy very, _very_ loudly swearing up a storm could be clearly heard. Even Bill, no stranger to foul language, blushed and covered Ginny's ears as Molly Weasley came running and began to yell at Castor.

The last two days at Grimmauld passed without any real incident, though everyone could tell that Castor was very agitated. So much so that Harry caught him outside once, smoking four fags all at the same time with a resigned look on his face.

- - - - - - -

_Sorry about the long hiatus: School, as usual, is kicking my ass. Nevertheless, expect another chapter soon. Either in celebration at passing my classes or in an effort to cheer myself up. So please review. Hopefully, this makes Castor less of a Gary Stu as the consequences of his actions overseas are going to come back in the story's future to bite him and a LOT of other people in the arse._

_Next time: The Hogwarts Express is attacked by ninjas. Yes, ninjas._


	8. Chapter 8

Harry Potter and the Combat Butler

By Andrew J. Talon and Fitzgerald

DISCLAIMER: Harry Potter is not our property. It belongs to JK Rowling and Time Warner. We're not doing this for profit. The only thing in this story I own is Castor Malfoy.

* * *

Panting hard, a red faced Harry with sweat pouring over his face was leaning forward. The only thing keeping Harry upright was his hands on his knees.

It had been a struggle to push through the last set of kata's crisply, and even now Harry could feel his muscles turning into quivering jelly.

With a grunt Harry heaved himself upright and blinked away the sweat from his eyes.

Running a hand through his sweat soaked hair, Harry grimaced and commented aloud. "Ugh I'm wetter than a merman."

It was then that Harry noticed something out of the corner of his eye, and years of experience aided by Castor's instruction had him moving instantly.

Snatching the towel that had been flung at him with ease from long practice as a Seeker combined with his natural talent Harry called out.

"Thanks."

A quick rub of the towel cleaned his face of sweat, followed by giving his mop of hair a quick dry cleaned up the worst of his sweat. Slinging the now damp towel over his shoulders, Harry snagged and put on his glasses.

Only to encounter a vision of angelic blond beauty with a brilliant smile in a navy tennis dress that tightly hugged all the right curves in all the right places.

Dropping his gaze to the matching navy court shoes Harry's gaze slowly made their up a pair of absolutely exquisite legs, past a rather charming pair of knees before the creamy skin disappeared at the mid thigh cut of the dress.

While a part of him wanted to linger and possible explore the rest of those creamy and gorgeous looking thighs, Harry's eyes continued up only to pause at a rather splendid bosom.

Although hidden away by the navy fabric of the dress, the outlines of the taut material informed Harry a rather awesome set of breasts were there.

Now completely red in the face, just not from exertion, Harry reluctantly moved his gaze up past some rather full and red lips, a pert nose and into a pair of amused blue eyes.

Eyes that unashamedly been taking in Harry's sweat soaked, bare chested and short clad form.

"'Allo Arry," Fleur Delacour said with a vibrant, joyful, and most definitely teasing smile. "Do you like this outfit?"

As Fleur twirled around, Harry watched as a rather shapely rear swept across his vision.

Taking his red face and wide eyes for a yes Fleur flashed Harry another smile before giving him a saucy wink. "I certainly 'ave no complaints."

As Harry started to stammer a reply, Fleur waved him off and a serious look fixed itself upon her face.

"'Arry, I must apologize for my be'aviour and unkind remarks at the start of the Tri-Wizard Tournament," Fleur remarked. "You 'ad more than earned the right to stand as a Champion. You 'ave not only my personal respect and gratitude, but that of the Delacour family, and Beauxbaton's."

"I," Harry stammered out as an uncertain look passed over his face. "Well thanks."

The return of her mischievous smile and the flirtatious glimmer in Fleur's eyes still didn't prepare Harry for what young lady from France had up her sleeve.

"On zee other hand, you are still little" Fleur commented in a teasing tone that suddenly turned sultry. "But I can zee that you are definitely now a man 'Arry."

Fleur slowly moved her eyes up and down Harry, sending a shivers running through his spine and sending his stomach for a spin.

"Sometimes zee best men," Fleur breathed out huskily before adding in a predatory manner that reminded Harry of Buckbeak eying a live rat. "Not to mention well equipped men come in small packages."

"Ze ladies of France know this well, no," Fleur added. "One only needs to look at Napoleon. Or as Gabrielle 'as so often remarked the Chevalier 'Arry Potter."

"Adieu 'Arry. We shall talk later after you 'ave 'ad a chance to freshen up," Fleur said cheerfully before sashaying out.

Suddenly the sparring hall seemed a dimmer and shabbier place.

"Harry," Castor commented sagely. "Did I ever mention the modifier to the Hero's Code?"

"Gah!" Harry exclaimed in shock. "When and more importantly how did you get in here Castor?"

"Much training and skill young grasshopper," Castor replied in his best imitation Kung Fu film Sensei voice. "But first my question."

"Ah, no." Harry answered after a few moments of mental pondering.

"Right," Castor said with a decisive nod. "When saving the innocent a hero oft finds himself rescuing distressed damsels out of one's preferred age range. Be it charming old ladies, cute little girls, or motherly matrons."

Harry nodded and added. "Like Gabrielle. She's far too young."

"Right," Castor replied, a quicksilver grin upon his face. "In those cases 'Get the Girl,' can be applied to said rescued innocents older sisters perhaps. Or single and pretty niece, daughter, granddaughter, ward, favorite student etc."

Harry swallowed visibly.

Fleur, unfortunately, was sent on an errand by Mrs. Weasley and wasn't able to come back later. However, before she parted, she shot Harry a wink which left the hormonal teenager with a long, restless night.

* * *

The morning after, all of the children's luggage was packed quickly and efficiently, as Mrs. Weasley had made sure that they'd all gotten their things squared away. The matter of transportation was one sorely contested issue… Though not by Mrs. Weasley.

"No!" The hula girl snorted. "We're not going to keep going around in this hunk of junk!"

"Oh come on, it's a classic!" Castor argued.

"It's a classic dud."

"Well what would you choose then?" Castor snorted.

"Would you two figure out whatever it is you're-Oh, _no!_ Sirius!" Molly Weasley hissed, as Padfoot bounded down the steps of Grimmauld Mansion. "You're not going!"

The Animagus barked and gave a doggy grin. Harry couldn't help a grin back. Mrs. Weasley huffed.

"All right! It's on your own head then!" She turned to Castor. "Would you [i]please[/i] hurry up?!"

"Sorry Molly, she's being difficult… Okay, look… How about a… Ford Mustang?" Castor suggested.

"GT!"

"Isn't much of a boot…"

"Magic!"

"Oh for God's sake," mumbled Hermione. "Just turn into a… An Aston Martin and get us there, please!"

Castor eyed the hula girl. She finally nodded.

"All right…"

"Thank you," Hermione sighed.

"Aston what?" Ron asked.

"Car James Bond usually…" Harry sighed. "Nevermind…"

Castor slid into the driver's seat, and a few moments later, the Camaro had shifted into an Aston Martin DB9. However, it featured four doors rather than two, making it more of a Rapide than a DB9, which hadn't actually been created yet. However, our heroes were totally unaware of any fourth wall breaking or temporal manipulations, and a few moments later the entire Weasley clan, Harry, Hermione, and Castor were off to the train station.

* * *

King's Cross was packed, but the Weasley family and their various companions were able to find their way through the crowds and to the pillar hiding Platform 9 and 3/4. The transition was made a lot faster thanks to Hermione pulling out a device that looked suspiciously like the sonic screwdriver from the new [i]Doctor Who[/i] series. Harry had only caught a few glimpses at it from over the Dursley's shoulders, but he could recognize the prop when he saw it.

"Hermione, exactly what is that?" Harry asked. Hermione smiled brightly.

"It's a portable SEP field! I ordered it using that catalog Castor gave us. They make these in America... It's rather ironic that way..."

"So, nobody will care whenever we do something?" Ron asked with a grin. "Wicked!"

"Castor!" Mrs. Weasley barked. Castor shrugged.

"Oh come on... They only work on Muggles, and she bought it with her own money... And do you really want to be out in these crowds any more than you have to?"

Mrs. Weasley huffed, but nodded minutely.

"Oh... All right... Come along then!"

"Er, Castor, I have a question," Ron began, as they shuffled through the barrier with the Muggles none the wiser.

"Yeah?"

"What'll happen to your car? I mean, you're coming with us, right?" Ron asked. Castor nodded, deftly taking the children's trunks up in his arms and carrying them onto the train.

"Yeah...?"

"So what'll happen to your car?" Ron asked.

"She'll catch up," Castor said. He poked his head into a compartment and checked it carefully. Seeing only a small blonde girl reading a magazine upside-down, he nodded and threw the baggage up onto the racks above.

"Don't mind us sitting here?" Castor asked. The girl looked up with very large blue eyes, and thought about it.

"I may pay you some mind, depending on how the journey goes, but it will be nothing unpleasant, I think," she replied. Castor smiled.

"Good enough for me."

Harry came on last, wiping his face with a grin. His godfather sure got enthusiastic in his goodbyes.

While the slash fangirls were fanning their faces, Harry arrived at the compartment. Ron and Hermione looked at Harry with slightly hesitant faces.

"We have to report to the Prefect's compartment," Hermione explained. Harry's brightened mood dimmed.

"Oh..."

"See you at the school, mate," Ron said. The two headed forward, and Castor leaned out of the compartment.

"Come on, we're not leaving just yet... Relax!" Castor pulled back, and took a seat across from the blonde girl. Harry followed, and sat down, feeling a little sullen.

The girl peeked above her magazine, and stared at Harry intently. Harry stared back.

"You're Harry Potter," she said. Harry slowly nodded.

"Yeah..."

"I'm Luna Lovegood," she returned. Harry nodded.

"Um, nice to meet you."

The girl tilted her head thoughtfully, then returned to her magazine. Harry blinked. He looked over at Castor, who simply shrugged.

Ginny and a tall boy Harry took a moment to identify as Neville Longbottom entered next. Ginny was chatting animatedly with Harry's fellow Gryffindor, who was smiling back with a nervous expression.

"Neville?" Harry asked.

"Oh, hey Harry," Neville returned. "Um, can I sit here?"

He was carrying around some sort of odd plant. Harry nodded, as Castor surreptitiously checked his watch. Ginny sat down next to Harry, her eyes firmly on Neville.

"So, you said you went on a trip this summer?" Ginny asked eagerly. Neville nodded.

"Oh, yeah, my granddad took me out to look for some rare plants in Central America..." He smiled broadly. "It was really fantastic! But uh, really rough... I lost most of my clothes when we had to cross a river, and I fell into a sinkhole..."

"Yes, that's... Truly tragic," Ginny managed, strangely eying Neville like Ron eyed a good meal. Still, as long as the _girl who looked like his mum_ wasn't eying him, Harry was fine. He just missed his friends.

"Central America?" Castor asked. Neville nodded, looking a little confused.

"Uh, yeah... Who're you?"

"Castor Credit," Castor grinned. "I'm uh, not a student."

"Oh..."

"He's Harry's bodyguard," Ginny said. Luna peeked over her magazine again.

"Do you also take care of his heart and soul?" She asked.

"Ah, I trust those to women. It's more of their thing. Unless we're speaking metaphorically," Castor said, ignoring Harry's glare.

"Why not literally? If his heart is ripped out by Barbed Wrackspurts, then you wouldn't have done your job properly would you?" Luna inquired.

"Barbed Wrackspurts?" Neville asked, blinking.

"You can read all about them in the Quibbler," Luna said matter-of-factly.

"Is there anything about Voldemort in there?" Harry asked. He ignored Neville and Ginny's flinches, though was a little surprised that Luna didn't even blink.

"Hmmm… I believe so. Here, page 8," Luna said, handing over her magazine. Harry eagerly began to read… An eagerness that quickly fell away as he saw the contents of the article.

"'You-Know-Who Posing as BAFTA Award Winning Actor?'" Harry asked in disbelief. Luna nodded.

"Yes, his flair for the dramatic was well known during his rise-No doubt he has channeled these energies into something the Magical World would never suspect him capable of doing."

"Oh come on Luna, an actor?" Ginny asked. Harry grimaced-Voldemort certainly did know how to command an audience, but this was nearly as bad as the [i]Daily Prophet[/i] saying absolutely nothing about his return!

"Well, considering the general disdain Wizarding Britain has for the Muggles, it is a pretty good plan for keeping a low profile… To them anyway," Castor offered. Neville looked at the article curiously.

"Ralph Fines…? Feenes? Why'd they put in these extra letters anyway…?"

The train began to move, and Harry settled into conversing with the other occupants of the compartment. Luna, as it turned out, was the daughter of _The Quibbler's_ publisher, and was all too happy to discuss the magazine with Harry and what "The Rag" (aka _The Daily Prophet_) had been publishing since he won the Triwizard Tournament. The anger that had been subdued thanks to the summer came back with a vengeance as he read about his supposed "mental illness" and compulsive lying for attention.

"I can't believe this!" Harry hissed. "They practically name me as Cedric's killer!"

Ginny scowled. "I thought Rita Skeeter wasn't writing?"

"She isn't, but others have taken up the slack," Harry growled. "There's gotta be something I can do..."

He turned his head over to Castor, who had, apparently, been dozing throughout the trip. "Castor?"

"Hm?"

"You... You know magic law, right? Is there anything about, what's it called...?"

"Libel?" Neville suggested. Castor took the paper and looked it over carefully.

"Hmmm... Well, libel is kind of flexible... Not to mention that the legislative branch and the judiciary are essentially the same thing in Wizarding Britain, which, given the deck stacked against you now..."

"You're thinking of suing the _Daily Prophet?_" Ginny asked. Harry shrugged.

"Well, if it'll get the news out about Voldemort..."

"If you'd like, I believe my daddy might be able to put the story into _the Quibbler_," Luna offered. "Granted, he's pursuing some leads on the Ministry's current coverup of the Rotfang Conspiracy..."

"The _what?_" Ginny asked incredulously.

"It is rumored that numerous members of the MoM and the Aurors are involved in a conspiracy to bring down the current order using gum disease and dark magic," Luna replied. "Have you never noticed the absence of dedicated dental spells and tooth healers in the magical world compared to the Muggle?"

"Luna, with all due respect, this _is_ England," Castor said. "Dental hygiene has traditionally been a bit of a secondary concern."

Harry couldn't help it-The idea of people trying to bring down the Ministry with gum disease made him laugh. Luna smiled serenely, and waiting patiently for Harry to stop.

"S-Sorry... Hahaha... That... That's great Luna..." He shook his head. Ginny huffed, and smiled in some amusement.

"I was entirely serious," Luna said.

"No, that's Harry's godfather," Castor said.

"Ah. Then I am not entirely Sirius. You can't make that name out of mine," Luna replied.

"Well, what's your middle name?"

Before Luna could answer, the doors to the compartment opened. Harry turned and scowled at the smirking trespassers.

"Scarhead? Back on the train? I see your taste in company continues to worsen," Draco Malfoy sneered. "Let's see... A near-squib, the Weaslette, a lunatic..." He trailed off as he spotted Castor, who was giving the Malfoy heir a measured look.

"Who the bloody hell are you?"

"Name's Castor," the man replied after a moment. "Yours?"

Draco snorted. "And an ignoramus... I am Draco Malfoy, son of-"

"Lucius Malfoy, son of Abraxes Malfoy, son of Caprica Malfoy," Castor recited. He considered Draco with an intense gaze, which made the younger man fidget.

"You know of my lineage then," Draco said. Castor nodded.

"Yes."

"So why are you here?" Draco snorted. "You're too old to be a student... Unless you're some kind of idiot."

Castor slowly rose to his full height, which made Draco's eyes widen slightly. Harry frowned-Obviously Castor had huge issues with his family, but this was odd, even for him. It came to him in an instant: Castor had never met his little brother before. He supposed he must be feeling just as awkward as Harry had when meeting people who knew his parents.

"I'm a new member of the faculty," Castor said at last. His eyes narrowed. "New class. It's mandatory from now on, actually."

"Yeah? And what kind of class is that? Certainly not Fashion," Draco sneered. Castor smiled what Harry had come to dub his jaguar grin, and Draco gulped.

"You'll find out like everyone else when we get to the school," Castor replied calmly. "Now, why don't you run along, unless you have something to say we might care about?"

"H-How dare you!" Draco sputtered. "How dare you talk to me that way!"

Castor stared for a moment longer, and snorted. He turned his back to Draco, and went back to his seat. Draco glared.

"Don't you turn your back to me!"

"Mmm? What's all this then?" Draco turned his head to shout at the intruder, but it came out as little more than "MMPH!"

Harry, Neville, Ginny, Crabbe and Goyle all gaped as Draco planted his face right between a very large, firm lookign set of boobs in a very tight Hogwarts blouse. The owner of the blouse and bosom opened her eyes, and looked down at the red-faced boy who had run into her.

"Hmm? Bit forward of you, kid," the woman stated. She brushed some of her short auburn hair out of her eyes and then casually pushed Draco away. The blonde Slytherin hit the floor, his entire head burning bright red.

"Y-Y-You, you...!"

"Huh?" Harry voiced his and the others' confusion. The woman seemed to be Asian in origin, save for her hair. She was wearing a Hufflepuff school uniform, which seemed to barely contain her voluptuous body. She turned her gaze on the occupants of the compartment, squinting again as though she needed glasses. Her eyes opened, revealing deep brown irises. She smiled as she caught sight of Castor, and Castor, in turn, tensed as though readying himself for a fight.

"Castor," the woman said in a sultry tone.

"Amara," Castor returned cautiously. The auburn-haired girl pouted.

"Awww... Is that all you have to say to me?"

"What are you doing here?"

Amara snorted. "Well, that's a very rude way to greet your girlfriend."

"What are you doing here?" Castor repeated. Amara squinted again as she smiled.

"Here to see you."

"Uh huh."

"Um, Castor, who is-?" Harry began. Castor stopped him with a raised palm.

"It's... Complicated," Castor said.

"We should talk," Amara said.

"How about over the phone?" Castor asked flatly. Amara sighed, and looked over at Harry.

"He's so very shy..." She looked back at Castor. "Come on, just trust me."

"Again," Castor deadpanned.

"Just once more, please?" She asked, her breasts rising as she held her hands together in an impassioned plea. Neville blushed down to the roots of his hair and he tugged at his collar nervously. Ginny was filled with incredible envy, and Luna was apparently trying to look out the side of her head.

Castor was silent for a moment, before he stood up. He walked over to Draco, who was still a bit stunned by the... Impact, and lifted him up.

"Hey! Let me go-!" Draco protested, but a deathglare from Castor silenced him. Harry's bodyguard pulled off his jacket, and yanked off Draco's robe.

"HEY!"

"Wear this," Castor said, dressing Draco up himself. When finished, he grabbed Draco's shoulders and shoved him onto the seat he had vacated. "Sit there."

"What?! Why should I-?"

"Because I _said so_," Castor growled, in a tone that would broke no argument. Harry stared at Castor in disbelief, but the ex-Malfoy shook his head.

"Just put up with him for a bit, Harry... If he makes trouble for you..." He tossed Ginny a mace sprayer, before shutting the doors to the compartment. He deathglared Crabbe and Goyle, who bolted as fast as they could go. Draco seethed at his compartment mates, but another deathglare from Castor through the glass silenced whatever nasty comment he was going to say.

Castor and Amara began talking outside-Harry couldn't hear anything, but Castor was definitely not enjoying it. He'd lit up a cigarette and was staring hard at Amara, who in comparison looked earnest and glad to see him.

He knew Castor had some issues regarding women, but for the life of him Harry couldn't figure out what was going on... Or why he'd put Draco next to the window. He looked back and forth between the two brothers. Idly, he noted that Draco looked a fair amount like Castor... Maybe from a distance...

Harry slowly scooted further away from Draco, and pushed Ginny to the end of the seat. He double-checked that his wand was secure in the leather wrist holster he'd received as a birthday gift from Sirius.

"What's the matter, Potter? Feeling too clean all of a sudden?" Draco sneered. Harry shared a glance with Ginny-The girl nodded, and slid her wand out. Luna copied the maneuver, pulling her wand out from behind her ear. Neville, looking confused, nevertheless trusted Harry and so he also produced his wand.

"Hey, what the bloody hell are you-?" Draco began, seeing all the wands out, but was abruptly and rudely cut off.

Then again, there probably weren't many polite ways to break through the window of a moving train with explosives.


End file.
